Doctor Bifrost Tells More

Hartley addresses Wally's question: isn't the Joker gay? 1991

If you read my intro piece, you know that I believe in the value of worldbuilding. Yeah, I’m one of those. A Consistency & Continuity Freak. Although in fact I think that continuity and consistency are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to decent worldbuilding. And I also accept that worldbuilding can’t be the be-all and end-all of a story, and that there are sometimes trade-offs with the other important aspects of storytelling: dialog, pacing, character, theme, and so on. Mainly I look for a good-faith effort.

Here’s something else I believe: the stories we tell one another are important. They reflect how we feel and they reflect our culture. And they influence how we feel and they influence our culture.

And stories don’t exist in a vacuum. When I read a story, I don’t experience it in isolation. I read it in context: as a part of all DC Universe stories, as an example of a genre, as a continuation of - or a response to - all the stories that came before. That’s not really a choice on my part; it’s just the kind of reader I am. I think stories (and the people who read and write them) are in a constant, churning conversation with each other, and I’m aware of that in the same way that I’m aware of whether a new Green Arrow costume looks cool or whether the pacing of a story arc is expertly done. It’s all significant to me as a reader.

So when I see Starfire in the first issues of The New 52 Red Hood and the Outlaws, and someone quickly says, “Hey, she just happens to be an alien from a planet where the girls are really hot and don’t like to wear clothes much and will have sex without strings with you and your buddy both, ‘cause it’s an alien planet, bro!” I can think, yeah, she’s just one character, she just “happens to be” that character. But I also think of the character in the context of how women have been portrayed in DC Comics over the years, and the roles of women in adventure stories, and how women are treated more generally in our culture. And then I have a somewhat different reaction. And I am aware of the choices that the author and artist and editor have made, and that they haven’t made them in a vacuum.

Or when I look back on my much earlier days as a reader - a gay kid who didn’t want to admit that even to himself, and saw no (apparently) gay characters in superhero comics at all - or for that matter in the movies and TV shows I was watching, or most of the science fiction and fantasy I was reading - and I remember that the first characters I saw in a superhero comic who could be thought of as gay were two brutal, campy thugs in a public shower room who threatened to rape Bruce Banner (poor choice of victim, that)... well, I can think, hey, there are bad, violent gay people in the world, and these just happen to be two of them. Or I can think, in a larger context, that comics creators have chosen for years to avoid showing any gay characters in comics, and these two violent, ugly stereotypes are the first ones who want to present? In a society where many people already have negative stereotypes about gays, and violence against gays was all too common, what message is the writer communicating with this choice?

Because stories have messages. And themes. And communicate ideas. Sometimes these are explicit, and sometimes implicit. Sometimes they are deliberate, and sometimes they are subconscious - just “business as usual.” Even the status quo communicates a message, and has an agenda.

Yeah, I’m one of those. You can call me a Social Justice Warrior if you want, I won’t flinch. I know it’s usually meant derisively, but it’s not a bad thing. And I grew up on Star Trek: The Original Series, and remember how quietly amazing it was that the bridge crew were not all white male Americans. And I understand now, as I didn’t then, the impact that the presence of Lt. Uhura had on the young African-Americans watching the show, who had never seen a person who looked like someone from their community in a role like that. (I also know that when Kirk and Uhura kissed - even though they were forced by a mind-controlling villain - that some stations in the South wouldn’t air the show.) And I know that none of this was an accident - it was a choice on the part of Gene Roddenberry, who had to fight with the network and the advertisers and even the audience to make this happen. I look to JRR Tolkien as my earliest mentor in worldbuilding. And to Gene Roddenberry as an early Social Justice Warrior in the pop-culture science fiction world. And I don’t forget either one of them.

I think this stuff is important. And interesting. (Also: complex, nuanced, and not at all obvious or easy, even with the best of intentions.) So if you don’t want to read a feminist analysis of The New 52 Wonder Woman, or an essay on the representation of marginalized groups in superhero comics, or why I thought that the Pied Piper had the best coming-out scene in mainstream comics - well, there’s a lot of other blogs out there. I wish you well.

But if you are interested - well, here we are!