Heroine Addict: Women of the DCnU
Back in June, I wrote a little article on DC’s reboot, and the decision made to cut the female creative force by half (from 4 to 2). At the time, I didn’t give any predictions on how that might affect the female characters or readership. I didn’t speculate because I try to be optimistic about my fandom, despite evidence to the contrary. The only negative comments I made were about the art, because–at the time–that was all I could comment on. I know Amanda Connor and Nicola Scott are talented artists and we all know Rob Liefeld is not. Art is consistent. Stories, on the other hand, can be hit or miss, be it because the creative well has run dry or the characters don’t speak to the writer anymore. For example, I hate Judd Winick’s Green Arrow, I could take or leave his Outsiders run, but I will defend his arcs on Batman to the death. I loved Devin Grayson’s Arsenal miniseries, but after the twentieth tragic event in her Nightwing run, I got bored and moved on.
Additionally, I didn’t want to wage some gender war by saying that men cannot write women (or vice versa). Obviously, that’s just not true as most of these characters were created by men. Bob Kane created Catwoman, Paul Dini and Bruce Timm created Harley Quinn, Marv Wolfman and George Perez created Starfire, John Ostrander, Len Wein and John Byrne created Amanda Waller. I am grateful for these characters and creators because I know many of them are apart of me and helped make me into the woman I am today. My beef, regarding the state of women in the DCnU, is not with men. It is with creators who write without knowing their characters, who write without thinking how it will affect their readership, let alone the world they have created. My beef is with people who just don’t think.
From Catwoman T&A to free love aliens, a lot of the damage has been discussed here and elsewhere, but there is still much to explore (not all of it bad). Really, I’m not the kind of person that looks to hate something. I genuinely want to like and enjoy things. But there are times where I just have to look at something and ask, “Why?” Are the creators purposefully trying to perpetuate the misogynistic and anti-feminist dialogue in comics, or do some of the creators just not see? It’s hard to guess and I’ve never been fond of assuming. So let’s talk about the DC relaunch and what it did and didn’t do for me, as a comic book fan and as a woman.
Let’s begin with Starfire. She’s the one we were all up in arms about, after all. Allow me to start by saying that I have never been a fan of Starfire. Be it because she amplified some insecurity I had about myself (I got deep into comics at age eleven. Who has a strong sense of self at eleven?), hit a mark on my extra-terretial xenophobia (she’s an alien! Aliens were always bad growing up, except for E.T.) or because I was a Babs/Dick shipper to the core (thank you, Batman: The New Animated Series!). The thing was, even if I didn’t like her, she was still a hero with the best intentions. She loved life, she loved earth, she loved being a hero, she loved. To be capable of such love in general, and in spite of her abusive past in particular, was amazing. Her love for humanity is what made her such a great hero, in addition to her power. It’s what made her so special, so singular, so interesting. A character who represented all the positive sides of emotion. Often in comics we focus on the negative aspects of emotion: the angst, the hate, the vengeance (yes, I’m looking at you, Bruce!). It was refreshing to have a character who reminded us that it’s good to feel. Emotions can be positive.
The new Starfire does not love. She is incapable of it, in fact. She has no interest in earth or earthlings and our silly lives. She has no memory of her friendships and previous relationship with Dick Grayson. Why, then, is she here? Why and how is she a hero? How can anyone who loved Starfire before, be bothered to care now? This is not Starfire. This is a doll, a void, a husk. Aside from some early deus ex machina (that almost any super powered hero could have pulled off), the pages that Starfire graces are a waste of ink. She brings nothing to the team, fan-service and cheesecake aside.
In my previous review of Suicide Squad, I mentioned my dissatisfaction with the new Harley Quinn. Harley was one of my favorite characters as a kid, rivaling my Catwoman as my favorite 90s/early millennia comic character (she lost out because her obsession with the Joker didn’t seem healthy, even to my pre-teen self). But she’s not the only problem I have in Squad. My other issue is Amanda Waller, The Wall: Where is she?
I want to know how DC is going to explain away two-thirds of her. Did she have a heart attack? Did her doctor warn her about something? Seriously, how can a historically large character suddenly become 120lbs? Who’s decision was that and why? There aren’t a lot of hefty characters in comics, let alone large women, so if comics are supposed to have “relatable” characters, why do that? Amanda is a widowed mother (two of her children having been murdered, with her husband) who works a sedentary, time consuming, stressful, government job. When did she find time to hit the gym? Does DC think her deflation in size is going to suddenly urge some readers to go to the gym, or is it more likely to make someone feel ostracized? There are enough thin, stacked female leads that I find it interesting (if not offensive) that the relaunch gave someone the agency to replace The Wall with Zoe Saldana (no offense to Zoe Saldana, she’s lovely. She’s just no Amanda Waller). Next to Starfire’s heroic nonchalance, this is something I must have explained to me.
The Birds of Prey return, with only one original bird and minimal fun. The new Starling is essentially Huntress-light (hard hitter with a case of Catholic guilt) and Black Canary is all business with no time for fun. Part of the greatness of Birds was that the women were like a family. To be in the Birds of Prey was to be a part of one of the coolest, most close-knit bowling leagues ever. Now, it looks to be just another day at the office, with strained friendships and forced partnerships. It’s hard to say how the relationships with the women will change over the course of the book, but if the female characters can’t even be friends and like and/or respect each other, how can I, as a reader, be expected to be a fan?
But not all DC women were thrown under the bus in the relaunch! While I agree fully with Eric Diaz’s article regarding the unoriginal announcement that Zeus is now Wonder Woman’s father, the first issue was great. The gods are once again relevant in our world, making her relevant. Her personality has not been this solid and clear since … never. Wonder Woman was a character whose book I bought because I wanted to like it, but always failed to fully enjoy it. As the Holy Spirit in DC’s Trinity, I was ever confused and lost in the mucky muck that was her story. Her history and personality always came off as convoluted. A shame, since I studied classics in college and am all about empowered, interesting women (obviously). But now, it looks like it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for Diana and (wait for it) it feels good. She’s a warrior, in the truest sense. Dutiful, but kind. Stoic, yet compassionate. She cares for those she has sworn to protect in exactly the way the new Starfire does not.
Also, take note regarding Wonder Woman: she, like Starfire, is naked in a couple of panels of her comic. However, it doesn’t make you, as the reader, feel awkward, because it’s realistic. She’s not flaunting her nakedness around so young children can send picture texts to their buddies or post it on some celebrity blog out there. She’s naked, because it made sense for her to be so. Diana is a true Wonder Woman, both strength and beauty incarnate. She stands on her own without the baggage of fanservice and cheesecake. It’s amazing.
Batwoman continues to be brave, bold and beautiful (I seriously cannot get enough of J. H. Williams III’s art) and Batgirl as a hero dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder is inspired. Not to suggest I don’t love Oracle and was against Babs’ return to the cape when it was announced, it is still a topic that is scarcely discusses in comics and one some readers need. I’d prefer if it was another character–male or female–because the chair and Oracle are important, but I don’t know who else could address it like Gail Simone. This seems typical of Barbara Gordon. I love her previous incarnation, but am just as grateful–if not more so–for her latest version. It’s impressive.
My favorite character, The Huntress, also made her debut last week in a shiny new miniseries, and I must say, I approve. She’s a little softer (that is, she didn’t maim any thugs out right) than the pre-boot Bertinelli, but she’s still kicking ass, sporting the crossbow and donning purple. I’ll have a more comprehensive review of THE HUNTRESS #1 up soon, so look out!
I’m still on the fence about Supergirl, and fan-service and some fan-fiction-esque elements aside, I really didn’t have much of a problem with Catwoman. Also, it’s hard to talk about any character in particular in the larger (> 5 hero) team books, so I’m holding my tongue until the first arcs pan out, making this not as extensive as it could be. Obviously there are some wonderful female characters who are still rock solid. Nevertheless, there are some definite changes that I am curious about and request an explanation for the changes.
Comics have a reputation for being sexist, anti-feminist and sometimes even misogynist, but that doesn’t have to be the case.I have read several articles over the month regarding these issues, and even most–if not all–of the creators agree that these exist. So what’s it going to take before they (and we as fans) start developing a solution? Perhaps some who recognize its existence don’t view it as a problem (which is an issue I’d like to address in a different article). But what about those who do see the error in their ways, but do nothing to fix it? Here, I am pin pointing a few of the core issues in the reboot and asking the simple question, “Why?” Once we can understand each other, we can get the dialogue started.
(**I also want to note that female characters weren’t the only ones affected by the reboot. The way the Savant character in the Suicide Squad acted was a big punch in my Birds of Prey loving gut. His presence–if that is my beloved Brian Durlin–was just pointless and unnecessary. A ‘fridging if I ever saw one.)
