Avenging Spider-Man #4: The Batman Problem
I started reading the Avenging Spider-Man because Spider-man is one of my favorite parts of the modern Avengers, and the Avengers membership is one of my favorite parts of the modern Spider-man. I love his "Why am I here?" attitude, his weird Calvin-and-Susie chemistry with Spider-woman (and the way they kept getting stuck in the corner talking to each other), the three-way quip-slinging among him, Ben Grimm, and Logan... a book focused on Spider-man's life as an Avenger sounded like a slam dunk.
Four issues in, the book isn't quite what I expected, but it's still pretty great. So far it's more of a new incarnation of Marvel Team-Up than anything else.
The first issue of the first story arc opened with a scene of the Avengers taking on an AIM installation, which segued directly into a brilliantly conceived "Even as an Avenger, Peter Parker is still a loser" scene. The rest of the arc... it seemed more like taking Spider-man out of his element and showing how he wins by being Spider-man than about him being an Avenger. Maybe it's because I still don't automatically think of Red Hulk as an Avenger the way I would Luke Cage or Iron Man. Maybe it's because they were deep in Fantastic Four's territory. I don't know.
The bottom line is that I enjoyed the first arc but I would have been hesitant to recommend the series to anyone on the strength of it. With issue #4, which is a standalone story, I think more of the potential is apparent.
There are lots of ways to describe the differences between the Big Two comic book universes, any one of which would probably be an oversimplification, save one: the DC universe works at a higher power level. That one's pretty hard to contest. Their super-strength is stronger. Their super-speed is faster. Their world is even a bit bigger (have to fit those extra cities in somewhere, of course).
Even the superheroes without superpowers are more... more... in the DC Universe. Exhibit A here is Batman, but he's just the start of it. Look at how quickly characters like Tim Drake, Mia Dearden, and Stephanie Brown can be brought up to muster.
So there's a phenomenon I'm going to call the "Batman Problem", even though it ironically doesn't really apply to Batman. It's about what happens when you put a normal mundane human on a team full of superhumans.
If Batman weren't Batman, he'd be the perfect exemplar of it, because he's one of the core members of the Justice League. In modern times, the high concept of the Justice League when it's any configuration of the "big seven" is basically that it's a pantheon, superheroes as gods. Or rather six gods and a man the gods themselves fear. The Batman of the League is a man who can suckerpunch Superman and threaten Darkseid with planetary annihilation. Post-reboot, he's already stolen Hal's ring off his finger once.
Batman in the context of the Justice League is Batman Ascendant. The concept of the Batman as the unfliching, unfailing, unyielding force of nature reaches its pinnacle in the League, because it has to. When a man would stand with gods, there must be an apotheosis.
The Avengers, on the other hand, has never been about being a pantheon. The Marvel universe is not just less powerful than the DC one, it's more down to earth. You might think this would make it easier to resolve the "Batman Problem", but in fact it makes it harder.
Because nobody in the Marvel universe could be Batman.
But that doesn't stop anyone from trying.
Now, I need to digress here and say a few words about Captain America, just to head off a red herring. Captain America is often wrongly described as being the same kind of "Badass Normal" as Batman, but the fact is the man has super powers. His origin story isn't "trained really hard", it's "injected with a serum and bombarded with rays". The confusion arises from the fact that this process is described as bringing about a state of "peak human potential", but much like the psychic powers that characters get when they unlock their mind's "full potential", this is a fictional/hypothetical "peak potential" that no human would or could reach without the process.
The strongest weight lifter is never going to have the reflexes of the best fighter. The best fighter is never going to be the fastest sprinter, and the fastest sprinter is never going to be the best endurance runner. Captain America is all of these, and more. He survived being frozen for decades. He can perform impossible feats of gymnastic and precision acts of huge metal disc throwing. He can dodge gunfire.
Captain America is a super soldier. He's a superhero. To belabor the point: he is superhuman, with superpowers. The denouement of the Civil War storyline hinged on this. He is highly trained and highly skilled, but his training came after his body was transformed into something More.
So, no. When I talk about the "Batman Problem" in terms of the Marvel Universe, I'm not talking about Captain America, but Hawkeye, a man who's never been given any serums or bombarded with any rays... which is a long way of saying "a man".
Hawkeye is more clearly an analog of the Green Arrow (to the point that his martial artist love interest is named "Mockingbird"), but in the context of his place in the universe, he's the unpowered mortal standing with the giants. Because of the lower power levels of the Marvel universe, this fact comes up less often, but the Avenging Spider-Man #4 places it front and center and deals with it beautifully.
The set-up of the story is that Captain America sends Hawkeye to patrol with Spider-man as part of a team-building exercise. Hawkeye spends the night taking aim at every target that presents itself. At first Spider-man is annoyed that Hawkeye isn't leaving him room to quip, but his grievances become more pointed when Hawkeye's itchy plucking finger interferes with his investigation of the unfolding caper.
The conflict comes to a head when he shows more interest in target practice than participating in a stake-out, and Hawkeye explains to Spider-man the Batman Problem as he experiences it: on a team with several superhumans and a god, he's the guy with a bow. His training is all that sets him apart from anyone else, so he never stops training so he'll never miss because he can't miss.
Batman in the League is Batman Ascendant because he needs to be, because the universe... because the story... won't let him be anything less. Hawkeye the Avenger isn't Batman Ascendant. He isn't even Just Regular Batman. His universe won't let him be.
I won't spoil the ending, but it's a very Marvel--and very Spider-man, but I repeat myself--way of dealing with the Batman Problem.
This is a story that departs a bit from previous portrayals of Hawkeye, but in a way that refines or gives nuance to them more than contradicts them. This Hawkeye is not the "Brash Bowman" of "Cap's Kooky Quartet", but his characterization here is consistent with that brashness and it gives a satisfying context for his attitude.
Even if you're not a fan of Hawkeye, the Avengers, or Spider-man in particular... if you're a fan of the superheroic fantasy genre and the storytelling medium of comics, I'd say this issue's worth a read.
This entry automatically cross-posted from http://alexandraerin.dreamwidth.org/363086.html. Comment hither or thither. Void where yon.
Four issues in, the book isn't quite what I expected, but it's still pretty great. So far it's more of a new incarnation of Marvel Team-Up than anything else.
The first issue of the first story arc opened with a scene of the Avengers taking on an AIM installation, which segued directly into a brilliantly conceived "Even as an Avenger, Peter Parker is still a loser" scene. The rest of the arc... it seemed more like taking Spider-man out of his element and showing how he wins by being Spider-man than about him being an Avenger. Maybe it's because I still don't automatically think of Red Hulk as an Avenger the way I would Luke Cage or Iron Man. Maybe it's because they were deep in Fantastic Four's territory. I don't know.
The bottom line is that I enjoyed the first arc but I would have been hesitant to recommend the series to anyone on the strength of it. With issue #4, which is a standalone story, I think more of the potential is apparent.
There are lots of ways to describe the differences between the Big Two comic book universes, any one of which would probably be an oversimplification, save one: the DC universe works at a higher power level. That one's pretty hard to contest. Their super-strength is stronger. Their super-speed is faster. Their world is even a bit bigger (have to fit those extra cities in somewhere, of course).
Even the superheroes without superpowers are more... more... in the DC Universe. Exhibit A here is Batman, but he's just the start of it. Look at how quickly characters like Tim Drake, Mia Dearden, and Stephanie Brown can be brought up to muster.
So there's a phenomenon I'm going to call the "Batman Problem", even though it ironically doesn't really apply to Batman. It's about what happens when you put a normal mundane human on a team full of superhumans.
If Batman weren't Batman, he'd be the perfect exemplar of it, because he's one of the core members of the Justice League. In modern times, the high concept of the Justice League when it's any configuration of the "big seven" is basically that it's a pantheon, superheroes as gods. Or rather six gods and a man the gods themselves fear. The Batman of the League is a man who can suckerpunch Superman and threaten Darkseid with planetary annihilation. Post-reboot, he's already stolen Hal's ring off his finger once.
Batman in the context of the Justice League is Batman Ascendant. The concept of the Batman as the unfliching, unfailing, unyielding force of nature reaches its pinnacle in the League, because it has to. When a man would stand with gods, there must be an apotheosis.
The Avengers, on the other hand, has never been about being a pantheon. The Marvel universe is not just less powerful than the DC one, it's more down to earth. You might think this would make it easier to resolve the "Batman Problem", but in fact it makes it harder.
Because nobody in the Marvel universe could be Batman.
But that doesn't stop anyone from trying.
Now, I need to digress here and say a few words about Captain America, just to head off a red herring. Captain America is often wrongly described as being the same kind of "Badass Normal" as Batman, but the fact is the man has super powers. His origin story isn't "trained really hard", it's "injected with a serum and bombarded with rays". The confusion arises from the fact that this process is described as bringing about a state of "peak human potential", but much like the psychic powers that characters get when they unlock their mind's "full potential", this is a fictional/hypothetical "peak potential" that no human would or could reach without the process.
The strongest weight lifter is never going to have the reflexes of the best fighter. The best fighter is never going to be the fastest sprinter, and the fastest sprinter is never going to be the best endurance runner. Captain America is all of these, and more. He survived being frozen for decades. He can perform impossible feats of gymnastic and precision acts of huge metal disc throwing. He can dodge gunfire.
Captain America is a super soldier. He's a superhero. To belabor the point: he is superhuman, with superpowers. The denouement of the Civil War storyline hinged on this. He is highly trained and highly skilled, but his training came after his body was transformed into something More.
So, no. When I talk about the "Batman Problem" in terms of the Marvel Universe, I'm not talking about Captain America, but Hawkeye, a man who's never been given any serums or bombarded with any rays... which is a long way of saying "a man".
Hawkeye is more clearly an analog of the Green Arrow (to the point that his martial artist love interest is named "Mockingbird"), but in the context of his place in the universe, he's the unpowered mortal standing with the giants. Because of the lower power levels of the Marvel universe, this fact comes up less often, but the Avenging Spider-Man #4 places it front and center and deals with it beautifully.
The set-up of the story is that Captain America sends Hawkeye to patrol with Spider-man as part of a team-building exercise. Hawkeye spends the night taking aim at every target that presents itself. At first Spider-man is annoyed that Hawkeye isn't leaving him room to quip, but his grievances become more pointed when Hawkeye's itchy plucking finger interferes with his investigation of the unfolding caper.
The conflict comes to a head when he shows more interest in target practice than participating in a stake-out, and Hawkeye explains to Spider-man the Batman Problem as he experiences it: on a team with several superhumans and a god, he's the guy with a bow. His training is all that sets him apart from anyone else, so he never stops training so he'll never miss because he can't miss.
Batman in the League is Batman Ascendant because he needs to be, because the universe... because the story... won't let him be anything less. Hawkeye the Avenger isn't Batman Ascendant. He isn't even Just Regular Batman. His universe won't let him be.
I won't spoil the ending, but it's a very Marvel--and very Spider-man, but I repeat myself--way of dealing with the Batman Problem.
This is a story that departs a bit from previous portrayals of Hawkeye, but in a way that refines or gives nuance to them more than contradicts them. This Hawkeye is not the "Brash Bowman" of "Cap's Kooky Quartet", but his characterization here is consistent with that brashness and it gives a satisfying context for his attitude.
Even if you're not a fan of Hawkeye, the Avengers, or Spider-man in particular... if you're a fan of the superheroic fantasy genre and the storytelling medium of comics, I'd say this issue's worth a read.
This entry automatically cross-posted from http://alexandraerin.dreamwidth.org/363086.html. Comment hither or thither. Void where yon.