Also think he did the Brain/Mallah thing more for laughs than anything else. It was kept because DC has more respect for Morrison and his work than, say… Marvel.

I did notice the paternal ties as well. Their relationship could also be considered Pygmalion (taking something and molding it to your perfect mate; not sure what that says about the Brain…). But it’s still a fun, and by far more interesting couple than any other. People who see it as some kind of metaphor for the gay community as a whole are probably looking too deep into it. Morrison even defended the couple against some homophobe who wrote in (issue 39 letters), and stated that homosexuality is a “fact of life”.

Also, that issue was #34 The Soul of a New Machine. Just FYI.

I was charmed by the depth of the interaction here, from fractured hero to the culture that leaves us without an attainable bridge between hidden self and sustainable worship. I’ve been working on something related to this and think that “fractured” and immolated Brunnhilde devoid of deity but embracing love moves in the direction that art, and theology (perhaps even comics) could stand to go.

Gorjus, what you identified as the loss of vulnerability within the comic hero genre is truly a loss. It is the vulnerability and the frailty that makes the hero, don’t you think?

Theologically, it is Jesus as wounded healer, suffering servant, crucified Lord, who helps to make me make sense of the world, much more than Jesus as perfect Superhero.

I’ve got to go to the supermarket, but I must come back and read this again. Thanks Danny Chase, et al. I’ll comment more on the giants.

By creating myths that we ourselves have no capacity to achieve (whether it be myths of super powers or divine righteousness), I wonder if an unconscious aesthetic is being forged whose only characteristic is the binary between IS and ISNT—meaning, whatever is worshipable (the heroic, the Other, the salvific) belongs to the nonavailable ISNT, and that the only things left for our society to “worship” is the comidifyable entities like race, gender, class, belief—the very things God doesn’t even possess.

Thoughts?

Under their tutelage, all heroes “battle[d] extreme pressure both within and without.” I think there is a value in that: it reminded us that even our myths, gods, and heroes could be vulnerable and human. It removed the yawning abyss between the democratically-elected bourgeouise of yesteryear (FDR, &tc.) with a feeling that “we could do it, too!”

Marvel Comics certainly grew up and alongside a “people power” movement, and I think the comics reflect that. What might be more noteworthy is how the various failures and weaknesses of the early characters are now erased: Spider-Man’s greatest fear, that his identity be disclosed, is now a moot point; Iron Man no longer has the crippling heart condition that tied him to his armor; the Hulk no longer struggles with his rages, but is simply one creature of balance, now; Thor has no need of the “humility-teaching” Don Blake identity; Bucky isn’t even dead, so Cap can’t worry over that.

So the question is to me, how is the growing “invulnerability,” or inhumanness, of our myths mirror our current society?

What I find most interesting when comparing early (Slavic?) narratives with modern Western ones is the contrast between their uber-external conflicts, (giants fighting powerful so-and-so’s) which seem to merely indicate an inner realm, and our more modern preoccupation with the inner turmoil of existence in the midst of an external world killing itself to maintain its singularity—One nation under God and all that. Specifically, I’m speaking about the ideological climate of modern life, the difficulty in believing anything at all in our info-drenched world—legitimate ideological stances are so rare that all become suspect, and so anyone with a salvific confidence in their personal brand of belief must also carry a Herculean apologetic. And yet comics, with their ellaborate settings and characters, actually seem to attempt a balance of such extremes—the fractured hero.

Any comic lovers can pipe-in, but if comics can establish a place where a character battles extreme pressure both within and without, does that give us something valuable? Has it yet? Or does it merely water-down the very real difficulty of contemporary belief? O, and am I gay if I have a loving relationship with a (not nec. my) monkey?

As Sue says, nice leap to Santorum insanity. Mallah is his lover and his son and a monkey! Awesome!

“Face to face in open combat.” Ha ha ha!