Interpretting Superhero Archetypes

[OBJECTION]

Going along with the whole superheroes as a power fantasy thing (Not that there’s anything wrong with that! /Seinfeld), I’m curious as to what emotions/fantasies Dopers think certain archetypes (speedsters, purely aquatic-based heroes, teams of teen heroes) or powers (invulnerability, flight, cryokinesis) or situations (stable hero losing control over his/her powers, hero gets mind-controlled, sidekick dies/gets kidnapped/gets mind-controlled/gets resurrected under a writer who completely ruins his personality) are meant to appeal to in readers. You can base the hypothesis on a named hero, a general archetype, or an actual situation from a comic/movie/episode/novel. This kind of analysis can also extend to archetypes and situations found outside of superhero stories of course, but for the sake of focus, let’s just concentrate on superhero fantasies in this thread.

This list could be helpful.

One of my own WAGs: The appeal of teenage superhero teams. It makes sense for teens (and preteens) to dig these situations, especially those who want to get that vicarious feeling of belonging to a group. Sometimes the teams are made up of sidekicks of adult heroes who also have a team (Teen Titans) or kids with powers that are just similar to the adult team they’re imitating (Young Avengers) or teens with no affiliation to any preexisting adult team whatsoever (Runaways). (Related to this, is the school for young heroes, which is either done in a comical elementary/preschool manner or is an X-men title.)

But this situation seems to appeal to a lot of us adult readers as well, despite that fact that many of us may not recall our highschool experiences too fondly. There’s just something compelling about the struggles of not-yet-grown-up heroes who have to thwart the talking gorilla and his de-evolution ray, stop the evil toymaker’s dolls and action figures from taking revenge on abusive former toy-owners everywhere, ask someone (probably on their team) to the prom, rescue their parents from their mirror image team of teenage villains, and get back in time for curfew. Part of it might be wishing that we had a ragtag team of loyal friends to fall back on during our own adolescent trials, and part of it could just be that we like reading about social dynamics in small groups, and adult teams don’t often seem believable. When do you you ever have a group of adults hanging out and accomplishing things together in day to day life beyond a company setting? (Part of why PAD’s X-Factor Investigations is the only adult superhero team I’m reading at the moment.) Congregating in little groups that consistantly meet up to get things done seems to be more believable among adolescents who don’t have careers or families to care after and who put much more worth in the opinions of their peers than adults do.

Er, seemed to ramble for a bit. Apologize for that. It’s 4am and I’m procrastinating. Shoot my poorly-composed theory down! Post your own!

[Bosda_Di_Chi_of_Tricor]

Well, the first thing to keep in mind is that much of the ethos/morality of superheroes comes from Jewish culture.

Because most of the major heroes were created by Jews.

“Up Up and Oy Vey!
How Jewish History Culture and Values Shaped
The Comicbook Superhero”

http://www.rabbisimcha.com/pages/book.html

The early comic book creators were almost all Jewish, and as children of immigrants, they spent their lives trying to escape the second-class mentality which was forced on them by the outside world. Their fight for truth, justice, and the American Way is portrayed by the superheroes they created. The dual identity given to their creations mirrors their own desire to live two lives privately as a Jew, and publicly as an American.

Their creations are the descendants of a Jewish tradition littered with stories of super strength from Samson to the Golem of Prague. An increasing number of fans and amateur historians, obsessed with back-story “mythology,” claim they’ve uncovered the secret “Jewish-ness” of the comic book characters. Superheroes, they claim, are usually outsiders; gifted yet misunderstood, and strangers in a strange land.

[CJJ]

@Up

The early comic book creators were almost all Jewish, and as children of immigrants, they spent their lives trying to escape the second-class mentality which was forced on them by the outside world. Their fight for truth, justice, and the American Way is portrayed by the superheroes they created. The dual identity given to their creations mirrors their own desire to live two lives privately as a Jew, and publicly as an American.

Their creations are the descendants of a Jewish tradition littered with stories of super strength from Samson to the Golem of Prague. An increasing number of fans and amateur historians, obsessed with back-story “mythology,” claim they’ve uncovered the secret “Jewish-ness” of the comic book characters. Superheroes, they claim, are usually outsiders; gifted yet misunderstood, and strangers in a strange land.

There had better be a lot more to it than this. While I concedemany of the early comic-book creators were Jewish, there’s nothing particularly Jewish about tales of super strength (It’s a common-enough idea from Hercules down to Paul Bunyan).

As for the “outsider/stranger in a strange land” status, the loneliness of heroic figures is a central theme in Greek and Roman storytelling (Odysseus and Aeneas are the two obvious examples), and the fact that these figures are often misunderstood is an ironic storytelling trope: It allows the reader to sympathize with the hero and allows for the hero to be in believable distress despite his formidable gifts.

I think many superhero archetypes–at least in the initial phase–were adopted from the archetypes seen in traditional storytelling (at least in the West; I don’t know much about Eastern storytelling traditions). For example, people learned that over time, if you tell a story about a figure who is too perfect, or who has no vulnerabilities, you run out of interestingscenes pretty quickly. So you have to give your hero reasons why his life may not be as wonderful as it seems on the surface, and you have to give him a tangible, serious vulnerability if you want the audience to believe the next confrontation he gets into could be potentially dangerous: Achilles had his heel, Superman had his Kryptonite. You do these things to hold audience interest, and instead of re-discovering them yourself as a writer, you go back to classic hero stories to find these archetypes.

What’s interesting today is how these archetypes have changed, mainly because with the explosion of storytelling outlets the “traditional” way of telling stories is shopworn to most readers. There is no way you can successful create a “Superman” type today, a lone, unambiguous defender of truth, justice, and the American way. Superheroes today are said to be more “complex” than that, but I don’t think that’s quite right; Superman is just as complex, but over time the kinds of stories you can build around this character have been exhausted unless you do some kind of “reboot” a la Smallville.

One interesting new feature that Smallville has brought to the Superman myth is that it makes the notion of “Fate” believable again. Fate, as it is presented in classical literature, just didn’t blend well with our modern American notions of free will and self-determination. Smallville ingeniously got around this by relying on the audience’s familiarity with the Superman myth–we know, for example, that Lex Luthor, friendly as he is now, will one day be Superman’s greatest enemy–and so reintroduces an element of traditional storytelling that is a great way to wring pathos from the story. Luthor is now, even if only a little, sympathetic, and that’s something you just don’t see in the traditional comic-book myth.

[CJJ]

@OBJECTION!!

Going along with the whole superheroes as a power fantasy thing (Not that there’s anything wrong with that! /Seinfeld), I’m curious as to what emotions/fantasies Dopers think certain archetypes (speedsters, purely aquatic-based heroes, teams of teen heroes) or powers (invulnerability, flight, cryokinesis) or situations (stable hero losing control over his/her powers, hero gets mind-controlled, sidekick dies/gets kidnapped/gets mind-controlled/gets resurrected under a writer who completely ruins his personality) are meant to appeal to in readers. You can base the hypothesis on a named hero, a general archetype, or an actual situation from a comic/movie/episode/novel. This kind of analysis can also extend to archetypes and situations found outside of superhero stories of course, but for the sake of focus, let’s just concentrate on superhero fantasies in this thread.

One obvious categorization of SH archetypes is Offensive vs. Defensive powers, and the “Offensive” powers can be further divided between “direct attack” (the type that inflicts direct pain, such as superstrength or projection of force) and “oblique attack” (not necessarily based on overwhelming infliction of pain, such as magic, super-breath, or control of outside forces).

It is rare enough for women heroes to have an offensive power, and when she does it is almost always an oblique form of attack (cf. the Fantastic Four; Sue Storm’s power of invisibility was the only defensive power in the group, and one so lame they eventually had to give her the power to project invisible force fields, which is primarily defensive but can be used as an oblique offensive weapon). I think this appeals to readers as a reinforcement of sexual stereotypes (we still expect the men to do most of the heavy lifting, and are a little unconfortable with a woman working up a sweat in a fight

[Skald_the_Rhymer]

@CJJ*

It is rare enough for women heroes to have an offensive power, and when she does it is almost always an oblique form of attack (cf. the Fantastic Four; Sue Storm’s power of invisibility was the only defensive power in the group, and one so lame they eventually had to give her the power to project invisible force fields, which is primarily defensive but can be used as an oblique offensive weapon). I think this appeals to readers as a reinforcement of sexual stereotypes (we still expect the men to do most of the heavy lifting, and are a little unconfortable with a woman working up a sweat in a fight

I have a couple of issues with your post, CJ, mainly with the verb tense. First, if it was formerly rare for super-heroines to have offensive powers, it is no longer so. Look at, say, the distaff contingent the Teen Titans; of Raven, Wonder Girl, Ravager, Starfire, and Miss Martian, only 1 has powers that could be described any anything other than “heavy lifting.” In fact I’d say purely defensive or subtle powers have been on the wane for both genders for a long time.

More specifically, I think Sue is a bad example as she’s written now. Not only is she the FF’s most powerful member by a good long shot (assuming we’re assessing Reed based only on his physical shape-changing rather than his inventive talents), but she’s the probably more powerful than the other three put together.

[CJJ]

@Skald the Rhymer

I have a couple of issues with your post, CJ, mainly with the verb tense. First, if it was formerly rare for super-heroines to have offensive powers, it is no longer so. Look at, say, the distaff contingent the Teen Titans; of Raven, Wonder Girl, Ravager, Starfire, and Miss Martian, only 1 has powers that could be described any anything other than “heavy lifting.” In fact I’d say purely defensive or subtle powers have been on the wane for both genders for a long time.

This is interesting, and obviously reflects a change in attitude among comic-book readers over the past 30 years regarding women (that should tell you how long it’s been since I picked up a comic book).

More specifically, I think Sue is a bad example as she’s written now. Not only is she the FF’s most powerful member by a good long shot (assuming we’re assessing Reed based only on his physical shape-changing rather than his inventive talents), but she’s the probably more powerful than the other three put together.

Although I haven’t read this comic in a long time, the recent (horrible) film version had her in a traditional defensive-mode. This traditional presentation of the team may be why the film did so poorly with not only current fans of the concept, but even the general audience; the idea of keeping superwomen in this role is seen as an anachronism.

[Skald_the_Rhymer]

@CJJ*

This is interesting, and obviously reflects a change in attitude among comic-book readers over the past 30 years regarding women (that should tell you how long it’s been since I picked up a comic book).

Although I haven’t read this comic in a long time, the recent (horrible) film version had [Sue] in a traditional defensive-mode.

:: re-watches FF movie ::

:: raises neuralizer, points at self, clicks button ::

I don’t know what you’re talking about. No such movie was ever made.

[CJJ]

@Skald the Rhymer

:: re-watches FF movie ::

:: raises neuralizer, points at self, clicks button ::

I don’t know what you’re talking about. No such movie was ever made.

If only it were possible…BZZZZZZZZT…wait, what were we talking about?

[Beware_of_Doug]

@CJJ*

There had better be a lot more to it than this. While I concede many of the early comic-book creators were Jewish, there’s nothing particularly Jewish about tales of super strength (It’s a common-enough idea from Hercules down to Paul Bunyan).

It might have more to do with the time the comic books came along. The 1930s were a particularly “Jewish” time in popular culture: media were becoming *mass *media, newly popular and influential, yet still looked down upon by many as a field for “those other people” who couldn’t get into “real” business.

[Manatee]

Check out Danny Fingeroth’s Superman on the Couch. He spends a lot of time addressing the archtypal elements of superheroes.