Confession: A review and analysis (with spoilers)--Part One

Kurt Busiek's Astro City is unfailingly excellent. The series tells stories about a city densely populated with superheroes, many of whom are analogues of iconic superheroes in other comics. In Astro City, Busiek creates characters who occupy a familiar iconic space, without necessarily reproducing the powers or character traits of existing heroes. Samaritan, for example, is the analogue for Superman. He is the apex hero, supremely powerful, and unfailingly benevolent and noble. Jack-in-the-Box is a colourful, wisecracking hero, a stand-in for Spiderman. Winged Victory is a Greco-inspired feminist heroine and stand-in for Wonder Woman.

Astro City: Confession is a story about the Astro City analogue of Batman, told by the equivalent of Robin. Brian Kinney moves to Astro City with the hope of making something of himself and ends up as the apprentice and sidekick of the dark, intimidating, "Confessor".

There is a lot to like about Confession. It's clever, and thoughtful, and it's full of insight about the nature of heroism--treading some of the ground later covered in Marvel's Civil War. And because of the way Astro City's characters are mirrors of DC and Marvel characters, a lot of the insights offered about the Confessor hold true for Batman as well. But some of the most interesting things going on here are about religion. Religion in Confession isn't just a motif, it's a major theme, and Busiek's treatment of that theme is worth paying attention to.

There is an aspect, of course, that all stories about heroes have religious undertones, in that they are about good and evil, they are about salvation, they are often about belief. In Confession, all of these undercurrents are present, as are some more obvious and explicit religious concerns. The first heroes Brian meets in Astro City are a hero team called the Crossbreed. They believe that God has given them their power, and that they must respond by doing his service. Secondly and most obviously, religious themes come up the the character of the Confessor--not just because of his name and costume (emblazoned with a glowing cross), or because he makes his headquarters in the abandoned section of an old abbey, but even more because he is a vampire--and vampires always (say it with me now: ALWAYS) carry Christian resonance.

First, though, the Crossbreed. The six member team consists of David, who is a giant, Daniel who is a lion-man, Joshua who has a sonic scream power, Peter who has the power to manipulate rocks, Moses, who can control rain (and possibly weather in general), and Mary who has wings and can fly like an angel. The biblical Daniel, of course, was not a lion, but survived a night with lions. So while a lion named Daniel is an obvious reference to the story of Daniel and the lion's den, it is the antagonist's power and appearance that are manifested in the comic book character. Likewise, the biblical David defeated a giant, but the comic book David is a giant. Biblical Moses built an ark as protection from the rain, but the comic book Moses controls the rain. This suggests something about he character of the God who gave them these powers. Quite apart from the subversion of expectations that allows the most frightening, beastial character (Daniel, the lion) be the group's healer--a trope borrowed from X-Men and Beast--the Crossbreed's explicitly religious context suggests that these characters are about God's redemptive and transformative power. The antagonistic elements from their source stories are re-imagined as heroic. Even more, they are remade in God's service.

Brian's first encounter with the Crossbreed is on the bus into Astro City, as the bus driver expresses both his cynical attitude toward superheroes in general (and this will be an important theme in the comic) and his disdain for the Crossbreed in particular:

"It's the Jesus Freaks. Again. Why can't they pick some other corner, just once? Just once? A different time of day? I am so sick of those jerks..."

We see the Crossbreed evangelising on the street corner, handing out pamphlets and talking about judgment day. Brian is in the process of defending them, in his internal monologue, when Daniel confronts him:

"Have you been saved?
Huh?
Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior?"

Brian stammers uneasily, until he is rescued by a passer-by, who tells him:

"Don't worry. The J.F.'s are annoyin', but they're harmless -- 'less you're allergic to Psalms and Preachin'!"

It would seem, on page 18, that we have seen the character of religion in this comic: it is annoying but harmless. Religious people are the people who accost regular people as they're minding their own business. And too often, that would be the final word. But in Busiek's hands the story is not that simple, and it turns out that the friendly passer-by was in fact picking his pocket. The Crossbreed save Brian and return his wallet, sending him off with:

"Welcome to Astro City, young man. God be with you."

So the street evangelists aren't nuisances after all. They are shown here seeking the bodily, as well as spiritual salvation of the people of Astro City. And the man who is so quick to dismiss them as annoying-but-harmless is in fact the predator.

The Crossbreed turn up twice more in this comic. They are seen being harassed by an angry crowd as anti-hero sentiment in Astro City rises. The crowd turning against their saviours would have been heavily resonant with the story of Christ regardless, but this resonance is highlighted by the explicitly Christian status of the Crossbreed. They are called the Jesus Freaks, and they, like Jesus, are rejected by the crowd.

Finally, the Crossbreed turn up at the climax of the story, swooping in to save Altar Boy from the newly revealed alien menace. They are a sort of Deus Ex Machina, coming out of nowhere with no warning or foreshadowing to save Altar Boy after his mentor the Confessor has died. Now, Deus Ex Machina are a trope of superhero comics, and you could argue that that is how superheroes themselves nearly always function. Still, in this case the Deus is a little more explicit than usual. There are any number of superheroes that could have showed up at the last minute to rescue Altar Boy, but the appearance of the Crossbreed signifies the intervention of God in this world. The Crossbreed, remember, believe that their power is a gift from God. So they are, at the least, a manifestation in this world of a certain kind of religiosity, and possibly even God's agents in the world. As Altar Boy is carried away by Mary, he muses: "I was saved by an angel".

Busiek presents here in minuscule an idea more fully articulated in his Superman story "Superman: Angels", where the suggestion is that God sends his gifts to protect us, and to inspire us: that since Superman does both, he is an angel--the agent of God on earth.

Whew. This is getting a little long. I think that for the sake of readability I'll leave it here and continue with an examination of the character of the Confessor in my next post, later this week.

Crucifixion in the work of Grant Morrison

Grant Morrison is a masterful storyteller. One of his signature techniques is the use of evocative religious symbols to lend his tales more power and gravitas. Given its centrality in Western art and culture it's no surprise that The Crucifixion is a motif he's employed. But it is striking how frequently he returns to it. Here's a quick tour through his body of work, beginning in 1989:

This is the cover of Animal Man number 5, from January 1989. The issue is entitled Coyote Gospel, and it remains one of Morrison's better-known stories. Animal Man himself is not crucified in this story; that fate symbolically befalls a thinly disguised Wile E. Coyote:

The coyote gave himself up to suffer at the hands of his cruel creator in exchange for the safety for his cartoon animal brethren. We eventually find out that this situation somewhat resembles Animal Man's own in relation to his creator, Grant Morrison. It's all very self-referential, but well worth reading.

Next comes the popular Batman: Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, also from 1989:


Batman spears the villain Killer Croc and is speared in return. "What wounds are these? I am Attis on the pine. Christ on the cedar. Odin on the world-ash." On the next page Killer Croc jumps out of a window, the spear still in his side:


Morrison's original storyboard notes: "Croc is framed in the shattering window as it explodes beneath his weight. His arms are thrown wide, in an attitude of crucifixion. The broken spear juts from his side and the shattering glass creates a jagged halo around his vast, deformed head. He becomes the image of the Serpent/Christ (and also evokes Moby Dick, with the harpoon in his side) a medieval allegory which Jung interpreted as being symbolic of "an overcoming of the unconscious and, at the same time, of the attitude of the son who unconsciously hangs on his mother.""

He added this commentary for the 15th anniversary edition: "In Qabalistic numerology, Christ = Satan = Messiah, which is why Croc appears here in crucifixion pose, taking the place of Christ on this blasphemous cross. In this scene, Batman reunites Christ and Serpent, then confronts and overcomes his own attachment to his Mother in a perverse nightmare of lizards, lace and bridal embroidery. Much of this subtextual material was lost on the casual reader but that didn't seem to stop us from shifting mega-amounts of copies. I do believe that people respond emotionally to deep mythical patterns whether or not they actually recognise or "understand" them as such, but the fact that our book launched at the time of the outrageously successful Batman film by Tim Burton probably helped more than anything else."

I tend to think Arkham Asylum lays on the pop psychology a bit too thick, but Morrison's use of "deep mythical patterns" continues throughout his career. Here's 1990's Doom Patrol:

(Doom Patrol no. 30, March 1990.) Cliff the robot-man takes a journey through his friend Jane's subconscious. Crazy Jane, aka Kay Challis, was sexually abused by her father, but managed to function by creating an alternate personality named Miranda and surpressing Kay's memories. After being raped and killing her attacker (in a church on Easter Sunday), Miranda was destroyed and 64 alternate personalities took her place, Jane being one of the most prominent. As the panel above explains, personalities like Stigmata exist to bear and absorb Kay/Jane's suffering. Cliff manages to help her somewhat, and later in the series, Jane seeks to heal and reunite her shattered psyche:

(From Doom Patrol no. 55 May 92.) The crucifix symbolizes both the rape which sparked the fragmentation, as well as the immense pain which a reunited Jane would have to take back from personalities like Stigmata.

Next up we have a series created from scratch by Morrison himself, The Invisibles (language warning for these next two):

This is The Invisibles, vol. 1, no. 21, from 1996. Young Dane encounters Barbelith, which is... complicated. Basically, Barbelith is trying to help humanity liberate itself from the crushing burden of suffering and evil it is trapped under. (Personally I find this page to be a stunning and unforgettable existential statement about what Terry Eagleton calls the "recalcitrance" of the human condition. As Eagleton writes: "The crucifixion proclaims that the truth of human history is a tortured political criminal.") Later in the same issue Dane experiences the pain of humanity himself:
Barbelith tells Dane that he must transform himself and the rest will follow - as above, so below. And, in fact, Dane will go on to be the saviour of humanity and the new Buddha. Morrison here mixes Christian, Gnostic, and Buddhist imagery (as he will later with Mister Miracle - see below.)

I don't have the image for it, but another crucifixion appears later on in The Invisibles (vol. 2, no. 20). A bug-eyed alien is nailed to a wall by the bad guys and forced to witness depravity, pain and death. The comic makes it clear that Morrison is expressing a Gnostic myth about the divine being trapped in its own creation. This is a major theme of The Invisibles.

Heady stuff! Back in the regular DC superhero universe...

Superman is crucified by Darkseid! From JLA Presents: Aztek, The Ultimate Man no. 10, May 1997, co-written with Mark Millar. Fortunately, this was just a simulation, meant to test Aztek's superhero skills and fitness for membership in the Justice League of America.

All of the above comics were for DC, but Morrison also wrote Marvel's flagship comic, The X-Men. Here the symbolism is a little more oblique, but have a look at these two images:

(From New X-Men no. 121, February 2002.) In a mostly-silent issue, Jean Grey enters Charles Xavier's psyche. Morrison's storyboard notes: "The second tier is filled with Xavier faces, screaming, laughing, howling, crying guardians - extreme emotional defence systems to ward off telepathic invaders. Pointing, accusing, hiding their eyes, pontificating. A smaller figure of Jean spins away from us, down into the center. Splashing into the one face which is calm, Christ-like in its quiet suffering expression." Further in, Jean sees this:


Morrison wrote: "Charles Xavier in grotesque pose, holding his vast swollen dripping brain, like an Atlas. Xavier struggling with the gross weight of his own imprisoned thoughts, sunk to the thighs in bubbling slime and tar like some monstrous Blakean figure. As a nod to Dali, there's an exploded wheelchair hovering in bits around Xavier. The components hang in strange splendor - Xavier's own version of the hypercubist cross." So, a bit more abstract, but not entirely unrelated.

Back in the DC Universe, a few years later, we're back to basics:

This is from the cover of Seven Soldiers of Victory: Mister Miracle no. 1, 2005. Miracle is originally one of the New Gods from Jack Kirby's Fourth World pantheon. In Morrison's introduction to volume one of the Fourth World Omnibus, he refers to the original Mister Miracle comic as "the New Testament strand" of Kirby's mythology. Here Miracle is the evocatively named Shilo Norman, who descends into a black hole attached to the cross-shaped restraint pictured above. (In the original image the cross is upside down.) He eventually escapes but not before finding his way out of Darkseid's false reality of degradation and suffering, a storyline which incorporates Christian, Gnostic, Buddhist and Norse elements. Part of it involves being betrayed by everyone, beaten, burnt, castrated, and left humiliated, hopeless and crippled. (See also the Suffering Servant, etc.) Note the crucifix pose from this scene in a later issue:(Seven Soldiers of Victory: Mister Miracle no. 3, 2006.) After escaping Darkseid's hell, Mr. Miracle returns to reality and, like Christ giving himself up in ransom for Adam, exchanges himself for Darkseid's prisoner Aurakles, the first super-hero. Darkseid tells him his victory was meaningless, takes him into a basement and shoots him in the head. The very last page of the entire Seven Soldiers of Victory series, however, shows a deified Miracle reaching out of the ground. In Morrison's Final Crisis, Miracle will go on to tell a friend: "Then three days later, I crawled out of my own grave. The whole world thought it was Mister Miracle's biggest ever stunt. But it was real. What I did was impossible."

Speaking of Final Crisis, Morrison's ongoing DC project:

This is from the cover of Final Crisis no. 2, August 2008. Ian described it to me as "Batman crucified on a piece of New Gods Kirbytech" and that's pretty much what it is. Early on in the heavily theological series Batman is captured by the evil minions of Darkseid. This page provides more details:

Is that syringe-studded helmet standing in for a crown of thorns? Anyways, Batman is not the only one to be crucified in that issue. Green Lantern John Stewart is nailed to a wooden crate by a mysterious assailant:

In Final Crisis the Justice League is faced with the doom foreshadowed in Aztek: defeat and torment at the hands of Darkseid. I'd heartily recommend following it, though it might be a bit confusing if you don't know the DC universe.

Whew. I'm sure there some examples I've missed, so this tour may not be exhaustive, but it has been kind of exhausting! Anyways, hopefully this helps shed some light on the recurring themes, and brain, of Grant Morrison.

[PS: for an image from 2000's Marvel Boy, which I discovered a few months after completing this post, click here.]

Review: Mecha Manga Bible Heroes #1: David vs. Goliath

I don't get it.

Mecha Manga Bible Heroes #1: "David vs. Goliath," written by Tom Hall and Joey Endres. Illustrated by Thom Pratt and Daniel Bradford. Backup stories by Dean Rankine. JMG Comics (Flanders, New Jersey): Summer 2008. $2.25.

Some time ago, I posted the press release for this. Because I refuse to be a mere advertiser for anything simultaneously Christian and sf-related, I followed that up in private with some (negative) predictions about the series that somehow ended up getting posted at The Sci Fi Catholic. Now the first issue is out and its creators, in thanks for the earlier postings, have generously sent me a copy for review.

First of all, it's only fair to point out that the target audience for this is clearly very young, as indicated by the general tone. The series retells stories from the Old Testament with almost no alteration besides a dumbing-down of the dialogue and the addition of a few sf flourishes, especially walking robots and powered armor suits, apparently for the purpose of convincing young males to read the Bible.

Ten bucks say Goliath gets p0wned.

After reading this first issue, I'm still asking the same question I was asking when I first heard of this project: "Why?" This issue, "David vs. Goliath," follows 1 Samuel 17.1-58 faithfully except for the additions of the aforementioned sf flourishes, which as a result look like intrusions. Truth be told, I don't get it; it would make better sense to me to create a comic that not only tells the Bible stories faithfully but also attempts to faithfully depict the world in which those stories took place, or else to create sf stories that use the Bible as starting points but take greater liberties with the text.

Because the sf elements are decoration and and not an inherent part of the story, I find them jarring and confusing. For example, when young David relates how he has saved sheep from bears and lions, the illustrations depict him tending robot sheep and fighting robot bears and lions. While reading this, I find myself asking, "What is the purpose of a robotic sheep? Where do robotic lions come from?" In a fully developed sf world, I would expect these questions to be answered sooner or later, but in Mecha Manga Bible Heroes, I'm almost certain they never will be, which again leads me to ask what the point is of putting them in at all.

The only answer I can come up with is gimmick. It's a gimmick designed to coax youngsters to read their Bibles. While I'm certainly in favor of encouraging children and youths to read the Bible, I suspect most of them could detect the gimmick of this comic and would take it as an insult. I also suspect it would give them the wrong idea, suggesting as it unintentionally does that the Bible is too dull or unpalatable to read without a few artistic touch-ups.

The artwork, though not great, is good. The writing is competent enough, but the flow of the comic seems to be off; a few inserted jokes are poorly timed, and I found myself having to stare at some pages for quite a while in order to figure out what's going on. On the whole, the quality is good, but this first issue contains nothing memorable. The two backup features by Dean Rankine, "Bee-Attitudes" and "Green with Envy," are nuisances.

Although this first issue of Mecha Manga Bible Heroes is worth a few minutes' entertainment, it contains nothing compelling and nothing to make me want to continue reading the series. I'd rather go read my Bible instead.

Kirby on Gods New and Old

Via Beaucoupkevin, a snippet of the documentary Masters of Comic Book Art in which the King discusses the religious inspiration for Galactus, the Silver Surfer, and the New Gods:

"I went to the Bible, and I came up with Galactus...And there I was in front of this tremendous figure, who I knew very well because I have always felt him, and I certainly couldn't treat him in the same way that I would any ordinary mortal. And I remember in my first story I had to back away from it to resolve that story And of course the Silver Surfer is the fallen angel... They were figures that had never before been used in comics. They were above mythic figures. And of course they were the first gods. And I began thinking along those lines. And the New Gods evolved from those lines. And I began to ask myself, everybody else had their gods. What are ours? What is the shape of our society in the form of myth and legend? Who are our gods? Who are our evil gods and who are our good ones?"