A while back, Jim Henley proposed the idea that the superhero genre can be appreciated as the literature of ethics, in the same sense that SF is the literature of ideas.
That's prompted a lot of discussion across ideaspace, with most people's opinions easily deducible from their opinion of the superhero genre: those who like superheroes think Jim's formulation is a fruitful analysis, while those who think that superheroes are puerile think that Jim's formulation is inapposite or overgeneral and certainly does nothing to elevate superheroes. Barry Deutsch has a typical example, with some good comments.
I'm a superhero fan, but I'm merely going to say that Jim's formulation--the literature of ethics--immediately echoed with me, because one of the reasons I buy superhero comics, one of the ways that superhero comics are effective for me, is precisely when they tackle ethical issues--choosing to do the right thing, trying to decide which is the right thing, trying to decide what to do when there is no right thing to do, questioning the relationship of power and responsibility, and so forth.
While, sixty years into the genre, many of the answers seem obvious, I think that obscures the fact that they're only obvious through repetition. Sure, we know what Spider-Man's answer to the power question is, but that shouldn't obscure the fact that it's a potent question, and he's got a potent answer. (In that sense, the old comic serial maxim that "every issue is somebody's first" ought to weigh in the favor of repetition--that's a consequence of the serial form and not the genre.)
Furthermore, one can argue the superheroes are indeed the literature of ethics in the same sense that science fiction is the literature of ideas. Vast quantities of non-genre literature are concerned with ethics and ideas, of course; what makes SF and superheroes special? Emphasis, isolation and control. If you want to ask what are the ethical duties of power, a superhero is a superb way to do that, because a superhero has a lot of power, a superhero is isolated from ordinary constraints on behavior by his uniqueness, and a superhero contrasts with a supervillain (who makes the same ethical decisions the opposite way). The superhero genre is an effective tool for probing ethical questions without touching anything else.
Finally, I'll note that in attempting to say that there are more great funny animal comics than superhero comics, Barry lists twelve great funny animal comics, but he commits a category error in doing so: almost half the list are actually comics strips. There are no good superhero comic strips, because you can't tell the kinds of stories that superheroes do well in comic strips. One might as well argue that the editorial cartoon is an underproducing genre because, really, look at how few good political allegory comic books there are. In addition, almost half the list require an extraordinarily expansive definition of the funny animal genre--if Peanuts is funny animal, so is Captain Marvel Adventures. If we expand the definition of superheroes similarly, I can make an argument for sweeping in Wall Street and Training Day.
Posted by Greg at April 7, 2004 11:04 AM
Superhero comics are not the literature of ethics because the ethics in question are inadequate. Superman, for instance, is a moral infant. The only reason he can avoid killing pre-Crisis is his massive power-level. Post-Crisis he is haunted by killing the Phantom Zone villains who had been condemned to death by the only relevant authority. The question comes directly to a head in an issue of DC Comics Presents wherein Superman is blown through time by an explosion and rendered amnesiac. He joins up with Sgt. Rock's Easy Companyand carries a bazooka. In the course of the issue, they are confronted by a Tiger tank, and Supes can't pull the trigger because he subconsciously remembers his code against killing. In normal circumstances this would mean a dead group of soldiers, but Superman hits the ground causing an earthquake, stopping the tank.
Ethics? That's not ethics, that's bizarre melo-drama. Most of the real ethical situations aren't even addressed in superhero comics. For instance, Samaritan in Astro City begrudges taking time off to accept awards when he should be off saving people, but suppose he comes to resent this after forty years. Might a vacation help? Maggin's classic story about Superman interfering in Earth's development pretends toward a kind of ehtical analysis of whether Superman should help at all, but really, it suffers from the wrong-headed assumption that interference from the outside ipso facto means a change in the natural order of things. Why stop at the planetary level? Why can't Earth be considered part of the galaxy as a whole and thus vulnerable to interference from Krypton or OA. For that matter, why end at the planet? Surely some countries would be perfectly happy if Superman stayed in the US and didn't interfere with the natural order of things in Qurac.
Superheroes don't address white collar crime. They don't address sexual mores. They don't address religion. They don't address legal, yet questionable activities. Superman hates killing? Where does he stand on abortion or assisted suicide. Well, we know he hates assisted suicide because of the brain globes story. Wher edoes he stand on the death penalty. If he's agin it, does he decline to help track down murderers or traitors? Whither Superman on prostitution? What about infidelity? How about the worship of strange Gods before Yahweh? How about movie theaters letting 15 year-olds into R rated movies? Or underage drinking? Or milk with beef? Or associating with members of different castes?
Literature of ethics. Pah.
An arguement over whether one can learn about ethics from script? Intriguing...
You both have limited views on the subject as you make reference to very limited substance. Spider-Man tales try to deal with individual character issues (personal adversity from personal shortcomings to generational social issues such as drug abuse and cloning) while Superman stories tend to be more fanciful in a "If someone had these powers and came from another planet, what would happen" premise.
Perhaps you would be better to explore the messages behind the stories (when they do in fact actually manifest themselves... poor writers do tend to obscure a good message) rather than limiting yourselves to linear material.
Thin characters: Superman, Batman
Moderate characters: Punisher, Spawn
Complex characters: Spider-Man, Yourself (hopefully)
Hey, Ben, ramp back the attitude, OK; you're no more a vessel of received wisdom than I am.
Cloning is a "generational social issue"? Pardon me while I limit myself to linearly laughing all over your point.
You'd do best to remember that Superman started out dealing with social issues, like wife-beating, unionization, and war profiteering; the character is certainly capable of significant stories, just as Spider-Man is certainly capable of just beating up the Rhino again while worrying about making the rent again.
The Punisher isn't a moderate character in your scheme; he's just a psychopath, simpler than Batman. Especially when written by Garth Ennis, whose run is an entertaining romp through butchery--Preacher without the themes.
Even so, Ennis is still saying something about ethics--for Frank, any means is justified if it kills mobsters, drug runners, and terrorists.
And contrast that with Batman, who has the same motivation as Punny, but makes different ethical decisions as a result.
Even during Superman's Weisinger era, he still bore a central question of ethics in his code against killing, admittedly rarely explored with any depth, but still a potent question for anyone willing to listen.
See, that's the point of the "literature of ethics" argument: Superheroes are good at these questions.