Ethics and the Superhero: Supreme Power, again
Visiting my local comic store, I wasn't surprised Astonishing X-Men #12 hadn't arrived yet (it usually takes a month), but I got my hands on Supreme Power #13 and #14, which means my waiting time till November when the trade collection is available will be shorter. To recapitulate: Supreme Power is, imo, the best thing JMS wrote (and still is writing) since Babylon 5. It revived an old Marvel project, taking certain DC archetypes - Superman, Batman, the Flash etc - and giving them a twist. Considering I read much unhappiness with the present state of the comicverse Batman franchise and Superman franchise in ljworld, I feel obliged to point out that what JMS did with these archetypes is fascinating and respectful and three-dimensional all the way through.
Earlier on, I was reminded of that classic, Watchmen, with the "how would the "real" world react to superheroes" premise, though not in the sense of JMS just doing a Moore imitation. In the two issues I read most recently, I've begun to wonder whether he's not engaged in an (creative) argument with Frank Miller, specifically with the depiction of Superman and Batman in The Dark Knight Returns. Because the encounters between Mark Milton/Hyperion (the Superman equivalent) and Nighthawk (the Batman equivalent) sound like counterpoints and antiversions to those between Batman and Superman in The Dark Knight Returns. JMS basically deconstructs both Batman's and Miller's central argument, Superman as an agent of the system and Batman as the true, lone and uncorrupted superhero fighting the fight as it ought to be. Mark is literary a product of the system - he has been raised in a goverment-provided fake All American Family, and indoctrinated by the government - but, being an intelligent man, has realized this, and started to draw consequences. (Breaking with the government, searching for answers, for starters.) However, he also rejects (so far) the "might is right" ethos of the one female metahuman he's met, and not incorrectly points out Nighthawk that the later has no idea what he's talking about when Nighthawk gets into a Miller-style "you're their tool and just good for muscle" rant. In what appears to be the equivalent of the formation of the Justice League, the way Hyperion, Nighthawk and the Blur (the parallel to the Flash) work together to catch a serial killer with enhanced abilities illustrates how and why they need each other.
One outstanding visual moment is at the end of #14, which was anticipated at an earlier point, in the second trade collection, where Mark had fought with Joe Ledger (a soldier deliberately enhanced by the government, much like the serial killer in this story was, only Joe happens to have ethics) after having found out the truth, and at the end suddenly realized that their battle had cost much of the local wildlife their lives. (Dead elephants lying around make for a ghastly image.) This time, the killer, who is drawn to resemble Mark a lot, deliberately went after as many humans as he could to distract Mark, who was more focused than during the fight with Joe and could save some, but (this isn't DC) not all. In a stark counterpoint not just to the traditional clash between superheroes and supervillains in which much property is damaged but no humans we can see, but also the Frank Miller clash in which humans are damaged but the lone heroes don't appear to care or justify this for the greater good, Mark (while Kyle/Nighthawk and Stan/The Blur are still arguing) looks around, sees dead human bodies everywhere and is so horrified by this drastic illustration of what unleashed superpowers can mean that he just repeats one word, again and again.
Stan serves an excellent foil to both Nighthawk and Hyperion. JMS made both Stan and Kyle black characters (and the equivalent of Bruce Wayne's childhood trauma, the murder of his parents, thus becomes a race crime), which means Stan can undercut Nighthawk's occasional self righteousness in a way Mark, being both white and alien and so desperate for not-lying company of equals, simply can't. He seems to embody the humorous and intensely human glue that will bind the group together. Mind you, left on his own, he'd have been perfectly content to use his powers just to make cash, so he does need both of them, too.
Nighthawk/Kyle is the one with the uncompromising look at the human ugliness, who sees what the other two might overlook, but also in constant danger of getting too caught up in it, of forgetting that punishing criminals is pointless if you don't save lives through it. Not to mention in danger of doing the judge, jury and executioner thing literary. This universe doesn't have a Robin, an Alfred or any of the usual Batman entourage who keeps him connected to humanity, so it seems to be the job of the other two (and potentially of Joe Ledger and the aquatic woman, if they'll join later on).
Now I'm nowhere near as well-versed in DC lore as, say, searose, but I can say that of what I've read and seen, Mark Milton is by far my favourite version of the Superman archetype. He has the usual hero qualities (bravery, strength), he also has intelligence; above all, though, he's tragic in the terrifying loneliness his existence condemns him to. (And it's to JMS credit that he doesn't make Mark's fake parents or the government officials into monsters for what they did - the comics illustrate that having a nearly all powerful child which is basically invulnerable is an incredibly dangerous thing.) You feel that to become essentially a god and dispense judgment left and right will be an ongoing temptation; choosing not to do that, to be true to ethics, faulty as the source of the ethics might have been, shapes up to be the true challenge.
Earlier on, I was reminded of that classic, Watchmen, with the "how would the "real" world react to superheroes" premise, though not in the sense of JMS just doing a Moore imitation. In the two issues I read most recently, I've begun to wonder whether he's not engaged in an (creative) argument with Frank Miller, specifically with the depiction of Superman and Batman in The Dark Knight Returns. Because the encounters between Mark Milton/Hyperion (the Superman equivalent) and Nighthawk (the Batman equivalent) sound like counterpoints and antiversions to those between Batman and Superman in The Dark Knight Returns. JMS basically deconstructs both Batman's and Miller's central argument, Superman as an agent of the system and Batman as the true, lone and uncorrupted superhero fighting the fight as it ought to be. Mark is literary a product of the system - he has been raised in a goverment-provided fake All American Family, and indoctrinated by the government - but, being an intelligent man, has realized this, and started to draw consequences. (Breaking with the government, searching for answers, for starters.) However, he also rejects (so far) the "might is right" ethos of the one female metahuman he's met, and not incorrectly points out Nighthawk that the later has no idea what he's talking about when Nighthawk gets into a Miller-style "you're their tool and just good for muscle" rant. In what appears to be the equivalent of the formation of the Justice League, the way Hyperion, Nighthawk and the Blur (the parallel to the Flash) work together to catch a serial killer with enhanced abilities illustrates how and why they need each other.
One outstanding visual moment is at the end of #14, which was anticipated at an earlier point, in the second trade collection, where Mark had fought with Joe Ledger (a soldier deliberately enhanced by the government, much like the serial killer in this story was, only Joe happens to have ethics) after having found out the truth, and at the end suddenly realized that their battle had cost much of the local wildlife their lives. (Dead elephants lying around make for a ghastly image.) This time, the killer, who is drawn to resemble Mark a lot, deliberately went after as many humans as he could to distract Mark, who was more focused than during the fight with Joe and could save some, but (this isn't DC) not all. In a stark counterpoint not just to the traditional clash between superheroes and supervillains in which much property is damaged but no humans we can see, but also the Frank Miller clash in which humans are damaged but the lone heroes don't appear to care or justify this for the greater good, Mark (while Kyle/Nighthawk and Stan/The Blur are still arguing) looks around, sees dead human bodies everywhere and is so horrified by this drastic illustration of what unleashed superpowers can mean that he just repeats one word, again and again.
Stan serves an excellent foil to both Nighthawk and Hyperion. JMS made both Stan and Kyle black characters (and the equivalent of Bruce Wayne's childhood trauma, the murder of his parents, thus becomes a race crime), which means Stan can undercut Nighthawk's occasional self righteousness in a way Mark, being both white and alien and so desperate for not-lying company of equals, simply can't. He seems to embody the humorous and intensely human glue that will bind the group together. Mind you, left on his own, he'd have been perfectly content to use his powers just to make cash, so he does need both of them, too.
Nighthawk/Kyle is the one with the uncompromising look at the human ugliness, who sees what the other two might overlook, but also in constant danger of getting too caught up in it, of forgetting that punishing criminals is pointless if you don't save lives through it. Not to mention in danger of doing the judge, jury and executioner thing literary. This universe doesn't have a Robin, an Alfred or any of the usual Batman entourage who keeps him connected to humanity, so it seems to be the job of the other two (and potentially of Joe Ledger and the aquatic woman, if they'll join later on).
Now I'm nowhere near as well-versed in DC lore as, say, searose, but I can say that of what I've read and seen, Mark Milton is by far my favourite version of the Superman archetype. He has the usual hero qualities (bravery, strength), he also has intelligence; above all, though, he's tragic in the terrifying loneliness his existence condemns him to. (And it's to JMS credit that he doesn't make Mark's fake parents or the government officials into monsters for what they did - the comics illustrate that having a nearly all powerful child which is basically invulnerable is an incredibly dangerous thing.) You feel that to become essentially a god and dispense judgment left and right will be an ongoing temptation; choosing not to do that, to be true to ethics, faulty as the source of the ethics might have been, shapes up to be the true challenge.