Abstract
In my thesis I plan to explore the subject of homosexuality in mainstream superhero comics, concentrating specifically on DC Comics’ recently introduced Batwoman character. I plan to explore the history of homosexual superheroes leading up to the publication of this series, including the long-time ban of such subject matter in comics, and the gradual introduction of homosexual character over the last twenty years. I will then look at the motives surrounding the introduction of such characters, as well as the subsequent reactions to them.
Description
In the spring of 2006, DC Comics announced the introduction of a new character named Kate Kane, an openly gay woman who would take on the mantle of Batwoman in the pages of the miniseries 52. After several appearances by the character in various series, Kane became the first openly homosexual superhero to headline a mainstream comic book with the publication of Detective Comics #854 in 2009. The two major American comic book publishers, DC and Marvel, have been gradually introducing gay characters since the early 90s, often as supporting characters or members of superhero teams, but this was the first time a homosexual was the central character of her own series.
In my thesis, I will first explore the history that has led to this moment. I will start in the 1950s with the publication of Fredric Wertham’s The Seduction of the Innocent, which accused, among other things, the superhero/sidekick relationship of characters like Batman and Robin of being homosexual in nature. Wertham’s book, along with a U. S. Congressional inquiry, led to the establishment of the Comics Code Authority by publishers to self-censor their titles, which included a guideline forbidding any mention of homosexuality in mainstream comics. This ban was finally lifted in 1989, and the period between then and now and its slow introduction of gay characters in comics will be a major focus. I will concentrate primarily on DC Comics, and certain characters I feel are key in leading up to the eventual introduction of Batwoman. These include Mikaal Tomas, a blue skinned alien who held the mantle of Starman in the 70s and who writer James Robinson later redeveloped as gay in his 90s Starman series. Also key is the character Renee Montoya, a detective in Batman’s home town of Gotham City who was outed as a lesbian in the series Gotham Central (co-written by Greg Rucka, who would go on to write Batwoman’s run in Detective Comics). Kate Kane was later introduced as a former lover of Montoya’s. While I will concentrate mostly on DC, I will also pay some attention to Marvel’s own introduction of gay characters and its policies regarding them in comparison to DC’s.
After establishing this background, I will then move on to Batwoman character, and look at several questions her introduction raises. Why has it taken this long for a gay character to headline a mainstream comic? What does the reaction of the press, comic book readers, and industry professionals say about the current state of comic books and homosexuality in America? And is there significance to the fact that the character to break this ground was a lesbian as opposed to a gay man?
Rationale
One of my major motivations in pursuing this topic is that I see superhero comics as an underserved topic in academic study. The comic medium has indeed gained a lot of ground in media studies in the past few decades, but much more attention is paid to more “serious” work that doesn’t fall into science fiction or action genres. This has always been a problem in other mediums like novels and films. Whether through pretentiousness or prejudice, genres like science fiction, fantasy and horror still fail to gain the respect of non-genre film and literature, even if the writing or filmmaking is just as good, if not better. Superhero comics have the double disadvantage of being an underappreciated sub-genre within an already underappreciated medium. A great deal of interesting work has been done in the genre over the past decades and, even when the quality is negligible, there is a much to take from them as a reflection of our times. The topic of homosexuality is a perfect example of this. Homosexuality has been a high-profile and divisive issue in this country for many years now, and this is something that is reflected in the emergence of gay superheroes in comics and the various reactions to them. By exploring this topic, I hope to contribute to discourse on homosexuality in America while at the same time helping bring attention to what I feel is a neglected medium and genre.
For many years I have been an avid reader of comics and graphic novels of all types. While I started reading superhero comics years ago for their entertainment value, and still do, I have increasingly seen them as a topic of academic interest. The political and social issues that arise within the comics and the reactions to them within the industry and the fan community have fascinated me for some time, and I look forward to putting this knowledge and experience to use in exploring this topic.
Review of Literature
Several articles been written regarding homosexuality throughout the early history of superhero comics. Most of these reference Fredric Wertham’s infamous 1954 book The Seduction of the Innocent as a jumping-off point. In “Domesticity, Homosociality and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s”, Mark Best discusses that while Wertham saw the homosexual subtext of these characters as something wrong with comics, he was correct to see the possibility of that reading. This subtext, and Wertham’s reaction to it, goes to demonstrate the complicated nature of issues of homosexuality and American masculinity in the 1950s. Best discusses the homosocial nature of male superhero relationships in this period, and how women were often presented as a threat to this. A female superhero like the original Batwoman is seen as an intrusion by Batman and Robin when first introduced – one that needs to be stopped. Women like Lois Lane are often depicted as scheming to ensnare heroes into a domestic life and threaten their male freedom. He also sees these love interests, as well as the concept of the “superhero family” (an extended cast of mixed-gender superheroes), as attempts to contain suggestions of homosexuality, but at the same time only complicating the matter.
Andy Medhurst similarly opens with a reference to Wertham in “Batman, Deviance, and Camp”. Medhurst points out that Batman is particularly interesting to view from a homosexual perspective, partially because of Wertham’s attacks. He discusses that while Wertham’s accusations clearly came from a place of homophobia, the subsequent need for others to refute them, to defend Batman’s masculinity, is equally homophobic. He goes on to discuss how the camp nature of the 60s Batman TV show seemed to bring the homosexual possibilities of the character to the forefront, and how the subsequent “darkening” of Batman in the 80s comics (including the killing of the second Robin after a fan poll) was an apparent attempt to purge him of this campiness. He concludes that, as a fictional character, Batman is open to the interpretation of the reader, whether that interpretation is heterosexual or homosexual.
In his book Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book, Paul Lopes looks at the development of the medium from its early days through today. In his discussion of comic books in the 1970s and 80s, he looks at how mainstream comics were dominated by the white, heterosexual male viewpoint, and how the desire of the publishers to maximize profits made it difficult for minority voices to break into this world. This led to the emergence of alternative comics by female, gay and minority artists, and a growing demand by fans in these groups for diversification on mainstream comics. He goes on to show the resistance that this eventual diversification met with. He points to, for example, the negative criticism that Marvel editor Axel Alonso met with after publishing Rawhide Kid in 2003, which featured a gay cowboy (146).
In “Queering Super-Manhood: Superhero Masculinity, Camp and Public Relations as a Textual Framework,” Rob Lendrum looks closer at the release of Rawhide Kid, which reinterpreted an established character as gay, and the subsequent reactions to it in the media. He argues that the utilization of the iconic masculine figure of the cowboy “challenges the assumed hetero-normative ‘ownership’ of cultural iconography” (287). Lendrum also starts with Wertham and references Medhurst’s assertion that the repression of the Batman character in the 1950s helped spawn the camp version of the 60s. His suggestion is that a similar trajectory led to the “queering” of the Rawhide Kid. Although this character is nowhere near as iconic as Batman, the media scrutiny and negative backlash demonstrate the continued volatility of the issue of homosexuality in mainstream media.
As a direct result of DC’s announcement of the gay Batwoman, much has been written about the state of homosexuals in superhero comics in various magazines, web sites, and newspapers. Some of these articles amount to little more than inventories of gay superheroes. In “Ten Gay Superheroes Who Broke New Ground” from the gay website AfterElton.com, Lyle Masaki lays out some of the major developments in recent years. These include the first instance of a major hero coming out with Marvel’s Northstar in 1992, and the first gay kiss in a mainstream comic between Mikaal Tomas and his boyfriend in Starman in 1998. Suzan Colon made a similar list in the Advocate article “Don’t Mask, Do Tell” in reaction to the news that a new incarnation of DC’s Justice League would include both Batwoman and Mikaal Tomas. While briefly discussing previously mentioned characters like Northstar and The Rawhide Kid, she also mentions Renee Montoya.
Michelle Helberg looks more at the character of Montoya in “Batwoman’s Lesbian Identity is No Secret to Comic Book Fans”, which is essentially a review of the issues of 52 that introduced Kate Kane’s Batwoman. She points out the irony of the amount of news coverage regarding the character, considering several lesbian characters already existed in mainstream comics, particularly Montoya. Helberg commends the storyline, particularly the straightforward and fleshed-out relationship between Montoya and Kane, and DC for bringing it to publication. Her only criticism seems to be in the way Kane’s “voluptuous” figure can be seen as a way to appeal to a young male demographic – and issue that should probably be explored much further.
Published in response to the Batwoman announcement, George Gene Gustines’ New York Times piece “Straight (and Not) Out of the Comics” discusses the current state of minorities in DC and Marvel comics. The article is basically another inventory of minority characters in comics, but is of greater interest due to its interviews with various key figures in the industry. Among them is Judd Winick, who introduced a gay character to Green Lantern in 2001. In response to the continued resistance these representations receive, Winick says, "When I get gripes for my need to force my social agenda into comics, I always ask: which social agenda are you complaining about? Is it the gay people? Or the black people or the Asian people? After a while, it doesn't look like a social agenda. This is the world we live in." Several people interviewed point out the significance that minority characters are now introduced with little fanfare.
This is something that Joe Palmer gets into a bit deeper in “Gay Comics 101” for AfterElton. In looking at the current state of gays in superhero comics, he addresses Marvel’s policy that any comic emphasizing a solo gay character will receive an “Adults Only” label. Some of their titles, such as Young Avengers, feature gay supporting characters and carry the equivalent of a PG rating, but little intimacy is shown. Palmer concludes that while both major publishers are making advancements, one still has to go to independent comics for more open and varied depictions of gay characters.
In “Flame On: Observing Gay Superheroes,” Matt Kennedy is much more critical of DC and Marvel in their handling of gay characters. He dismisses Rawhide Kid as poorly written, and points out that most series relegate homosexuality to minor characters. While he acknowledges writers like Winick and a headlining hero like Batwoman as positive for the industry, he shows that these are really exceptions to the rule. He blames continued fear of the religious right for the gay superheroes being held back, and calls for gay fans to be more vocal.
In the course of my research, I was somewhat disappointed with how little seems to be written on this topic. Of what I did find, much of it seems to be rather superficial in its analysis. I would like to explore this issue much further, concentrating particularly on DC’s approach to homosexuals in their publications, although comparing it with Marvel’s approach would be appropriate. I would like to give more attention to characters like Mikaal Thomas and Renee Montoya. I would also give up-to-date analysis of the most developments with Batwoman and her series, as little has been written on the topic since the initial announcement of the character four years ago. I feel there are several issues that should also be explored much further. I find it particularly interesting that the first gay character to headline her own series is a woman. Does the mainstream comic industry see male homosexual relationships as being less acceptable to their main demographic? If they are still in the mindset that they are catering to a young, heterosexual male audience, perhaps they’re assuming that lesbian characters would be somewhat intriguing and even arousing to them. I also think an idea touched on very briefly by several of these authors – that the introduction of gay characters can be as much, if not more, an attempt at publicity by the publishers as they are a noble attempt to diversify they’re comics – deserves much more attention. I look forward to digging much deeper into these issues and whatever new ones are likely to arise in the coming years.
Methodology
In my research for this project the first step will be looking at the comics themselves. This will be simple enough to accomplish in the case of the more recent characters and stories I will be referencing. In my own collection I already have access to many of Batwoman’s appearances in their original issues, and those of several other key characters. Many of the storylines I don’t already own have been collected into paperback editions and can easily be found in libraries or bookstores. Older stories may prove more of a challenge, as they may not be readily available in a collection and the individual issues harder to find. Many comics have been scanned and archived online and made available for download, although this is in obvious breach of copyrights and presents some ethical challenges.
As I have said previously, there does not seem to be a great deal of in-depth academic writing on this specific topic. The articles I have mentioned will prove useful, but I feel a great deal more research will be necessary for this type of source. This will make it all the more necessary to look several other types of sources. I plan to look at the original press releases put out by DC and Marvel in regard to their homosexual characters, and then the coverage these announcements received in various newspapers and magazines, both print and online. Also key will be analysis of the reactions to such characters by fans, the primary source for this being the discussion sections of DC and Marvel’s own sites, as well as various comic news sites and fan sites. Interviews with various industry professionals will be an important source, be it the writers and artists involved with creating these characters, the editors from both publishers, or others who weren’t directly involved but were vocal in there positive or negative stance on the issue. As previously published interviews won’t always cover every issue I am trying to address, I may find it necessary to pursue interviews with certain key individuals myself, which could prove to be another interesting challenge. All in all, I look forward to these challenges and expect the development of this thesis to be a rewarding experience.
Relevant Literature
Best, Mark. “Domesticity, Homosociality, and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s”. Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies 6 (Spring 2005): 80-99.
Colon, Suzan. “Don’t Mask, Do Tell.” The Advocate Nov. 2008: 18.
Gustines, George Gene. “Straight (and Not) Out of the Comics.” New York Times 28 May 2006.
Helberg, Michelle. “Batwoman’s Lesbian Identity is No Secret to Comic Book Fans.” After Ellen. Logo, 24 Jul. 2006. Web.
Kennedy, Matt. “Flame On: Observing Gay Superheroes.” Forces of Geek. 29 Sep. 2009. Web.
Lendrum, Robert. “Queering Super-Manhood: Superhero Masculinity, Camp and Public Relations as a Textual Framework.” International Journal of Comic Art 7.1 (2005): 287-303.
Lopes, Paul. Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2009.
Masaki, Lyle. “Ten Gay Superheroes Who Broke New Ground.” After Elton. Logo, 9 Jul. 2009. Web.
Medhurst, Andy. “Batman, Deviance, and Camp.” Popular Culture: Production and Consumption. Eds. Denise D. Bielby and C. Lee Harrington. Malden: Blackwell, 2001. 24-35.
Palmer, Joe. “Gay Comics 101.” After Elton. Logo, 16 Oct. 2006. Web.
Wertham, Fredric. Seduction of the Innocent. New York: Rinehart and Co., 1954.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Literature Review: Homosexuality in Superhero Comics
In the spring of 2006, DC Comics announced that it was introducing a new, openly gay version of its Batwoman character in the pages of its miniseries 52. While homosexual characters were no longer new to superhero comics by this time, this would lead to a milestone with the publication of Detective Comics #854 in 2009 in which Kate Kane (Batwoman’s secret identity) became the first openly homosexual superhero to headline a comic book (as opposed to supporting characters or members of larger teams). These events led to much discussion and debate, and in many ways was the culmination of events that go back to the gradual introduction of homosexual characters into mainstream comics in the 1990s, and even further back into the early days of the medium.
Several articles been written regarding homosexuality throughout the early history of superhero comics. Most of these reference Fredric Wertham’s infamous 1954 book The Seduction of the Innocent as a jumping-off point. Wertham’s book was released at a time of growing concern over the content of comic books and its influence on young children. Aside from citing depictions of violence and drug use, Wertham pointed to hero/sidekick relationships like that of Batman and Robin as being homosexual in nature. Wertham’s book, along with a U. S. Congressional inquiry, led to the establishment of the Comics Code Authority by publishers to self-censor their titles. A guideline in the Code forbidding any mention of homosexuality in mainstream comics existed until 1989.
In “Domesticity, Homosociality and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s”, Mark Best discusses that while Wertham saw the homosexual subtext of these characters as something wrong with comics, he was correct to see the possibility of that reading. This subtext, and Wertham’s reaction to it, goes to demonstrate the complicated nature of issues of homosexuality and American masculinity in the 1950s. Best discusses the homosocial nature of male superhero relationships in this period, and how women were often presented as a threat to this. A female superhero like the original Batwoman is seen as an intrusion by Batman and Robin when first introduced – one that needs to be stopped. Women like Lois Lane are often depicted as scheming to ensnare heroes into a domestic life and threaten their male freedom. He also sees these love interests, as well as the concept of the “superhero family” (an extended cast of mixed-gender superheroes), as attempts to contain suggestions of homosexuality, but at the same time only complicating the matter.
Andy Medhurst similarly opens with a reference to Wertham in “Batman, Deviance, and Camp”. Medhurst points out that Batman is particularly interesting to view from a homosexual perspective, partially because of Wertham’s attacks. He discusses that while Wertham’s accusations clearly came from a place of homophobia, the subsequent need for others to refute them, to defend Batman’s masculinity, is equally homophobic. He goes on to discuss how the camp nature of the 60s Batman TV show seemed to bring the homosexual possibilities of the character to the forefront, and how the subsequent “darkening” of Batman in the 80s comics (including the killing of the second Robin after a fan poll) was an apparent attempt to purge him of this campiness. He concludes that, as a fictional character, Batman is open to the interpretation of the reader, whether that interpretation is heterosexual or homosexual.
In his book Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book, Paul Lopes looks at the development of the medium from its early days through today. In his discussion of comic books in the 1970s and 80s, he looks at how mainstream comics were dominated by the white, heterosexual male viewpoint, and how the desire of the publishers to maximize profits made it difficult for minority voices to break into this world. This led to the emergence of alternative comics by female, gay and minority artists, and a growing demand by fans in these groups for diversification on mainstream comics. He goes on to show the resistance that this eventual diversification met with. He points to, for example, the negative criticism that Marvel editor Axel Alonso met with after publishing Rawhide Kid in 2003, which featured a gay cowboy (146).
In “Queering Super-Manhood: Superhero Masculinity, Camp and Public Relations as a Textual Framework,” Rob Lendrum looks closer at the release of Rawhide Kid, which reinterpreted an established character as gay, and the subsequent reactions to it in the media. He argues that the utilization of the iconic masculine figure of the cowboy “challenges the assumed hetero-normative ‘ownership’ of cultural iconography” (287). Lendrum also starts with Wertham and references Medhurst’s assertion that the repression of the Batman character in the 1950s helped spawn the camp version of the 60s. His suggestion is that a similar trajectory led to the “queering” of the Rawhide Kid. Although this character is nowhere near as iconic as Batman, the media scrutiny and negative backlash demonstrate the continued volatility of the issue of homosexuality in mainstream media.
Perhaps as a result of the press surrounding DC’s announcement of the gay Batwoman, much has been written about the state of homosexuals in superhero comics in recent years. Some of these articles amount to little more than inventories of gay superheroes. In “Ten Gay Superheroes Who Broke New Ground” from the gay website AfterElton.com, Lyle Masaki lays out some of the major developments in recent years. These include the first instance of a major hero coming out with Marvel’s Northstar in 1992, and the first gay kiss in a mainstream comic between the character Mikaal Tomas and his boyfriend in DC’s “Starman” in 1998. Suzan Colon made a similar list in the Advocate article “Don’t Mask, Do Tell” in reaction to the news that a new incarnation of DC’s Justice League would include both Batwoman and Mikaal Tomas. While briefly discussing previously mentioned characters like Northstar and The Rawhide Kid, she significantly mentions Renee Montoya, an oft-overlooked but important character in the history of gay superheroes. Montoya was a main character in Gotham Central, a series that focused on ordinary police detectives in Batman’s hometown. Montoya was outed as a lesbian by the villain Two Face in a 2003 story arc that was nominated for a GLAAD award. Kate Kane was later introduced as a former lover of Montoya’s in 52.
Michelle Helberg looks more at the character of Montoya in “Batwoman’s Lesbian Identity is No Secret to Comic Book Fans”, which is essentially a review of the issues of 52 that introduced Kate Kane’s Batwoman. She points out the irony of the amount of news coverage regarding the character, considering several lesbian characters already existed in mainstream comics, particularly Montoya, through whom Kane was introduced. Helberg commends the storyline, particularly the straightforward and fleshed-out relationship between Montoya and Kane, and DC for bringing it to publication. Her only criticism seems to be in the way Kane’s “voluptuous” figure can be seen as a way to appeal to a young male demographic – and issue that should probably be explored much further.
Published in response to the Batwoman announcement, George Gene Gustines’ New York Times piece “Straight (and Not) Out of the Comics” discusses the current state of minorities in DC and Marvel comics. The article is basically another inventory of minority characters in comics, but is of greater interest due to its interviews with various key figures in the industry. Among them are Judd Winick, who introduced a gay character to Green Lantern in 2001. In response to the continued resistance these representations receive, Winick says, "When I get gripes for my need to force my social agenda into comics, I always ask: which social agenda are you complaining about? Is it the gay people? Or the black people or the Asian people? After a while, it doesn't look like a social agenda. This is the world we live in." Several people interviewed point out the significance that minority characters are now introduced with little fanfare.
An issue I feel is neglected by both Gustenes’ and Helberg’s articles is that the Batwoman announcement seemed suspiciously like a publicity stunt meant to drum up controversy and boost sales. Since a character like Montoya could exist with little attention, Batwoman would likely have also flown under the radar had it not been for DC’s press release. As much as the introduction of the character was a step forward for DC, the publicity it created was self-serving. Where racial minorities seem to be naturally integrated into comics, the industry still has some way to go in its handling of gay characters.
This is something that Joe Palmer gets into a bit deeper in “Gay Comics 101” for AfterElton. In looking at the current state of gays in superhero comics, he addresses Marvel’s policy that any comic emphasizing a solo gay character will receive an “Adults Only” label. Some of their titles, such as Young Avengers, feature gay supporting characters and carry the equivalent of a PG rating, but little intimacy is shown. Palmer concludes that while both major publishers are making advancements, one still has to go to independent comics for more open and varied depictions of gay characters.
In “Flame On: Observing Gay Superheroes,” Matt Kennedy is much more critical of DC and Marvel in their handling of gay characters. He dismisses Rawhide Kid as poorly written, and points out that most series relegate homosexuality to minor characters. While he acknowledges writers like Winick and a headlining hero like Batwoman as positive for the industry, he shows that these are really exceptions to the rule. He blames continued fear of the religious right for the gay superheroes being held back, and calls for gay fans to be more vocal.
In “A Superhero for Gays?: Gay Masculinity and Green Lantern,” Valerie Palmer-Mehta and Kellie Hay take a novel approach to the issue. They look specifically at Winick’s Green Lantern plotline in which the title character’s gay assistant, Terry Berg, is brutally attacked in a hate crime. After an overview of past articles that discuss masculinity in comics, they decide that there is a lack of literature regarding the medium’s representation of gays and antigay hate crimes. They proceed to analyze a group of unpublished letters received by the creators in response to the story. They break down the responses into four main categories: resistance to the representation of gay issues, concern over Green Lantern’s vigilante violence in response to the attack, conerns over the representation of gay characters, and appreciative responses. The appreciative responses make up the majority of the letters, followed by concern over vigilantism. The authors see this as a positive sign – that we are at a point in which more people will disapprove of vigilantism in a comic book than gay themes. The strength of their argument is somewhat questionable, considering that they are based on a small amount of letters.
In the course of my research, I was somewhat disappointed with how little seems to be written on this topic. Of what I did find, much of it seems to be rather superficial in its analysis. I would like to explore this issue much further, concentrating particularly on DC’s approach to homosexuals in their publications, although comparing it with Marvel’s approach would be appropriate. I would like to concentrate on characters that I feel deserve more attention, such as Mikaal Thomas and Renee Montoya, and give an up-to-date analysis of the most recent developments with Batwoman and her series. I feel there are several issues that should also be explored much further. I find it particularly interesting that the first gay character to headline her own series is a woman. Does the mainstream comic industry see male homosexual relationships as being less acceptable to their main demographic? If they are still in the mindset that they are catering to a young, heterosexual male audience, perhaps they’re assuming that lesbian characters would be somewhat intriguing and even arousing to them. I also think an idea touched on very briefly by several of these authors – that the introduction of gay characters can be as much, if not more, an attempt at publicity by the publishers as they are a noble attempt to diversify they’re comics – deserves much more attention. I look forward to digging much deeper into these issues and whatever new ones are likely to arise in the coming years.
Works Cited
Best, Mark. “Domesticity, Homosociality, and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s”. Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies 6 (Spring 2005): 80-99.
Colon, Suzan. “Don’t Mask, Do Tell.” The Advocate Nov. 2008: 18.
Gustines, George Gene. “Straight (and Not) Out of the Comics.” New York Times 28 May 2006.
Helberg, Michelle. “Batwoman’s Lesbian Identity is No Secret to Comic Book Fans.” After Ellen. Logo, 24 Jul. 2006. Web.
Kennedy, Matt. “Flame On: Observing Gay Superheroes.” Forces of Geek. 29 Sep. 2009. Web.
Lendrum, Robert. “Queering Super-Manhood: Superhero Masculinity, Camp and Public Relations as a Textual Framework.” International Journal of Comic Art 7.1 (2005): 287-303.
Lopes, Paul. Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2009.
Masaki, Lyle. “Ten Gay Superheroes Who Broke New Ground.” After Elton. Logo, 9 Jul. 2009. Web.
Medhurst, Andy. “Batman, Deviance, and Camp.” Popular Culture: Production and Consumption. Eds. Denise D. Bielby and C. Lee Harrington. Malden: Blackwell, 2001. 24-35.
Palmer, Joe. “Gay Comics 101.” After Elton. Logo, 16 Oct. 2006. Web.
Palmer-Mehta, Valerie and Kellie Hay. “A Superhero for Gays?: Gay Masculinity and Green Lantern.”
Wertham, Fredric. Seduction of the Innocent. New York: Rinehart and Co., 1954.
Several articles been written regarding homosexuality throughout the early history of superhero comics. Most of these reference Fredric Wertham’s infamous 1954 book The Seduction of the Innocent as a jumping-off point. Wertham’s book was released at a time of growing concern over the content of comic books and its influence on young children. Aside from citing depictions of violence and drug use, Wertham pointed to hero/sidekick relationships like that of Batman and Robin as being homosexual in nature. Wertham’s book, along with a U. S. Congressional inquiry, led to the establishment of the Comics Code Authority by publishers to self-censor their titles. A guideline in the Code forbidding any mention of homosexuality in mainstream comics existed until 1989.
In “Domesticity, Homosociality and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s”, Mark Best discusses that while Wertham saw the homosexual subtext of these characters as something wrong with comics, he was correct to see the possibility of that reading. This subtext, and Wertham’s reaction to it, goes to demonstrate the complicated nature of issues of homosexuality and American masculinity in the 1950s. Best discusses the homosocial nature of male superhero relationships in this period, and how women were often presented as a threat to this. A female superhero like the original Batwoman is seen as an intrusion by Batman and Robin when first introduced – one that needs to be stopped. Women like Lois Lane are often depicted as scheming to ensnare heroes into a domestic life and threaten their male freedom. He also sees these love interests, as well as the concept of the “superhero family” (an extended cast of mixed-gender superheroes), as attempts to contain suggestions of homosexuality, but at the same time only complicating the matter.
Andy Medhurst similarly opens with a reference to Wertham in “Batman, Deviance, and Camp”. Medhurst points out that Batman is particularly interesting to view from a homosexual perspective, partially because of Wertham’s attacks. He discusses that while Wertham’s accusations clearly came from a place of homophobia, the subsequent need for others to refute them, to defend Batman’s masculinity, is equally homophobic. He goes on to discuss how the camp nature of the 60s Batman TV show seemed to bring the homosexual possibilities of the character to the forefront, and how the subsequent “darkening” of Batman in the 80s comics (including the killing of the second Robin after a fan poll) was an apparent attempt to purge him of this campiness. He concludes that, as a fictional character, Batman is open to the interpretation of the reader, whether that interpretation is heterosexual or homosexual.
In his book Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book, Paul Lopes looks at the development of the medium from its early days through today. In his discussion of comic books in the 1970s and 80s, he looks at how mainstream comics were dominated by the white, heterosexual male viewpoint, and how the desire of the publishers to maximize profits made it difficult for minority voices to break into this world. This led to the emergence of alternative comics by female, gay and minority artists, and a growing demand by fans in these groups for diversification on mainstream comics. He goes on to show the resistance that this eventual diversification met with. He points to, for example, the negative criticism that Marvel editor Axel Alonso met with after publishing Rawhide Kid in 2003, which featured a gay cowboy (146).
In “Queering Super-Manhood: Superhero Masculinity, Camp and Public Relations as a Textual Framework,” Rob Lendrum looks closer at the release of Rawhide Kid, which reinterpreted an established character as gay, and the subsequent reactions to it in the media. He argues that the utilization of the iconic masculine figure of the cowboy “challenges the assumed hetero-normative ‘ownership’ of cultural iconography” (287). Lendrum also starts with Wertham and references Medhurst’s assertion that the repression of the Batman character in the 1950s helped spawn the camp version of the 60s. His suggestion is that a similar trajectory led to the “queering” of the Rawhide Kid. Although this character is nowhere near as iconic as Batman, the media scrutiny and negative backlash demonstrate the continued volatility of the issue of homosexuality in mainstream media.
Perhaps as a result of the press surrounding DC’s announcement of the gay Batwoman, much has been written about the state of homosexuals in superhero comics in recent years. Some of these articles amount to little more than inventories of gay superheroes. In “Ten Gay Superheroes Who Broke New Ground” from the gay website AfterElton.com, Lyle Masaki lays out some of the major developments in recent years. These include the first instance of a major hero coming out with Marvel’s Northstar in 1992, and the first gay kiss in a mainstream comic between the character Mikaal Tomas and his boyfriend in DC’s “Starman” in 1998. Suzan Colon made a similar list in the Advocate article “Don’t Mask, Do Tell” in reaction to the news that a new incarnation of DC’s Justice League would include both Batwoman and Mikaal Tomas. While briefly discussing previously mentioned characters like Northstar and The Rawhide Kid, she significantly mentions Renee Montoya, an oft-overlooked but important character in the history of gay superheroes. Montoya was a main character in Gotham Central, a series that focused on ordinary police detectives in Batman’s hometown. Montoya was outed as a lesbian by the villain Two Face in a 2003 story arc that was nominated for a GLAAD award. Kate Kane was later introduced as a former lover of Montoya’s in 52.
Michelle Helberg looks more at the character of Montoya in “Batwoman’s Lesbian Identity is No Secret to Comic Book Fans”, which is essentially a review of the issues of 52 that introduced Kate Kane’s Batwoman. She points out the irony of the amount of news coverage regarding the character, considering several lesbian characters already existed in mainstream comics, particularly Montoya, through whom Kane was introduced. Helberg commends the storyline, particularly the straightforward and fleshed-out relationship between Montoya and Kane, and DC for bringing it to publication. Her only criticism seems to be in the way Kane’s “voluptuous” figure can be seen as a way to appeal to a young male demographic – and issue that should probably be explored much further.
Published in response to the Batwoman announcement, George Gene Gustines’ New York Times piece “Straight (and Not) Out of the Comics” discusses the current state of minorities in DC and Marvel comics. The article is basically another inventory of minority characters in comics, but is of greater interest due to its interviews with various key figures in the industry. Among them are Judd Winick, who introduced a gay character to Green Lantern in 2001. In response to the continued resistance these representations receive, Winick says, "When I get gripes for my need to force my social agenda into comics, I always ask: which social agenda are you complaining about? Is it the gay people? Or the black people or the Asian people? After a while, it doesn't look like a social agenda. This is the world we live in." Several people interviewed point out the significance that minority characters are now introduced with little fanfare.
An issue I feel is neglected by both Gustenes’ and Helberg’s articles is that the Batwoman announcement seemed suspiciously like a publicity stunt meant to drum up controversy and boost sales. Since a character like Montoya could exist with little attention, Batwoman would likely have also flown under the radar had it not been for DC’s press release. As much as the introduction of the character was a step forward for DC, the publicity it created was self-serving. Where racial minorities seem to be naturally integrated into comics, the industry still has some way to go in its handling of gay characters.
This is something that Joe Palmer gets into a bit deeper in “Gay Comics 101” for AfterElton. In looking at the current state of gays in superhero comics, he addresses Marvel’s policy that any comic emphasizing a solo gay character will receive an “Adults Only” label. Some of their titles, such as Young Avengers, feature gay supporting characters and carry the equivalent of a PG rating, but little intimacy is shown. Palmer concludes that while both major publishers are making advancements, one still has to go to independent comics for more open and varied depictions of gay characters.
In “Flame On: Observing Gay Superheroes,” Matt Kennedy is much more critical of DC and Marvel in their handling of gay characters. He dismisses Rawhide Kid as poorly written, and points out that most series relegate homosexuality to minor characters. While he acknowledges writers like Winick and a headlining hero like Batwoman as positive for the industry, he shows that these are really exceptions to the rule. He blames continued fear of the religious right for the gay superheroes being held back, and calls for gay fans to be more vocal.
In “A Superhero for Gays?: Gay Masculinity and Green Lantern,” Valerie Palmer-Mehta and Kellie Hay take a novel approach to the issue. They look specifically at Winick’s Green Lantern plotline in which the title character’s gay assistant, Terry Berg, is brutally attacked in a hate crime. After an overview of past articles that discuss masculinity in comics, they decide that there is a lack of literature regarding the medium’s representation of gays and antigay hate crimes. They proceed to analyze a group of unpublished letters received by the creators in response to the story. They break down the responses into four main categories: resistance to the representation of gay issues, concern over Green Lantern’s vigilante violence in response to the attack, conerns over the representation of gay characters, and appreciative responses. The appreciative responses make up the majority of the letters, followed by concern over vigilantism. The authors see this as a positive sign – that we are at a point in which more people will disapprove of vigilantism in a comic book than gay themes. The strength of their argument is somewhat questionable, considering that they are based on a small amount of letters.
In the course of my research, I was somewhat disappointed with how little seems to be written on this topic. Of what I did find, much of it seems to be rather superficial in its analysis. I would like to explore this issue much further, concentrating particularly on DC’s approach to homosexuals in their publications, although comparing it with Marvel’s approach would be appropriate. I would like to concentrate on characters that I feel deserve more attention, such as Mikaal Thomas and Renee Montoya, and give an up-to-date analysis of the most recent developments with Batwoman and her series. I feel there are several issues that should also be explored much further. I find it particularly interesting that the first gay character to headline her own series is a woman. Does the mainstream comic industry see male homosexual relationships as being less acceptable to their main demographic? If they are still in the mindset that they are catering to a young, heterosexual male audience, perhaps they’re assuming that lesbian characters would be somewhat intriguing and even arousing to them. I also think an idea touched on very briefly by several of these authors – that the introduction of gay characters can be as much, if not more, an attempt at publicity by the publishers as they are a noble attempt to diversify they’re comics – deserves much more attention. I look forward to digging much deeper into these issues and whatever new ones are likely to arise in the coming years.
Works Cited
Best, Mark. “Domesticity, Homosociality, and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s”. Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies 6 (Spring 2005): 80-99.
Colon, Suzan. “Don’t Mask, Do Tell.” The Advocate Nov. 2008: 18.
Gustines, George Gene. “Straight (and Not) Out of the Comics.” New York Times 28 May 2006.
Helberg, Michelle. “Batwoman’s Lesbian Identity is No Secret to Comic Book Fans.” After Ellen. Logo, 24 Jul. 2006. Web.
Kennedy, Matt. “Flame On: Observing Gay Superheroes.” Forces of Geek. 29 Sep. 2009. Web.
Lendrum, Robert. “Queering Super-Manhood: Superhero Masculinity, Camp and Public Relations as a Textual Framework.” International Journal of Comic Art 7.1 (2005): 287-303.
Lopes, Paul. Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2009.
Masaki, Lyle. “Ten Gay Superheroes Who Broke New Ground.” After Elton. Logo, 9 Jul. 2009. Web.
Medhurst, Andy. “Batman, Deviance, and Camp.” Popular Culture: Production and Consumption. Eds. Denise D. Bielby and C. Lee Harrington. Malden: Blackwell, 2001. 24-35.
Palmer, Joe. “Gay Comics 101.” After Elton. Logo, 16 Oct. 2006. Web.
Palmer-Mehta, Valerie and Kellie Hay. “A Superhero for Gays?: Gay Masculinity and Green Lantern.”
Wertham, Fredric. Seduction of the Innocent. New York: Rinehart and Co., 1954.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Wizard with a Thousand Faces
It is an oft-repeated aphorism that “there is nothing new under the sun”, and one has to wonder how true that is. In today’s world we are flooded with new books, films, music, and TV shows every day. With so many stories and images constantly being poured into the public consciousness, concepts like originality and creativity become increasingly difficult to pin down. Legal and ethical concerns regarding ownership and plagiarism complicate matters further. Perhaps the best way to approach these issues is by looking at one of the most successful pieces of culture to emerge in the past twenty years – J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. Here we have a franchise that can be called derivative in almost every way possible, yet somehow managed to also be original and intriguing enough to capture the public imagination and create an international phenomenon. By looking at the various controversies and criticisms surrounding these books, I feel it can be demonstrated that clear boundaries can be established between what is acceptably derivative and what constitutes unethical theft.
As with almost anything as successful as the Potter series, a great deal of litigation has grown up around it since the release of the first novel in 1997. In 1999, for example, American Nancy Kathleen Stouffer brought charges of copyright infringement up against Rowling regarding her little-known works Larry Potter and His Best Friend Lilly and The Legend of Rah and the Muggles, “muggles” being a word used by wizards in the Potter books to refer to non-magical people. The case was dismissed on the basis that the similarities were superficial and that Rowling most likely did not know about Stouffer’s books. Interestingly, The Books of Magic, a comic book series created by Neil Gaiman that shows much closer similarities to Potter led to no legal action. The series features a young English boy with dark hair and glasses named Timothy Hunter. Hunter, who grew up with no knowledge of the magical world, learns that he is destined to become a great wizard. Like Potter, he is introduced to magic by several mentors and is even given a pet owl. On the release of the first Potter book, fans of The Books of Magic were quick to point out the similarities. But Gaiman dismissed the accusation that Rowling had stolen from him, asserting in an interview that “all of the things that they actually have in common are such incredibly obvious, surface things that, had she actually been stealing, they were the things that would be first to be changed” and goes on to say that “we were both just stealing from T.H. White” (qtd. in Richards). Gaiman’s point is a pivotal one in that it demonstrates how there is little left in today’s culture that isn’t derivative. While both authors may have been inspired by T.H. White, White was himself inspired by centuries old Arthurian legends. Similarly, many of the elements of the Potter series can be similarly traced back to the folklores and mythologies of several cultures. The important thing is that the way Rowling presented these elements resonated with readers in a way that the works of many other authors have failed to. For this reason she is entitled to every penny this series has made her.
This reasoning raises a new question. If Rowling is entitled to benefit from a work that is inspired by so many others, does she have any right in turn to sue those who infringes on the Potter franchise? The success of the series has indeed inspired many imitators. Rick Riordan’s successful Percy Jackson and the Lighting Thief series, released well after the first Potter, presents the similar story of an ordinary young boy who discovers that he is part of a supernatural legacy, in this case Greek gods in place of wizards. Despite the similarities, Rowling would have no case against Riordan because he has merely created one more variation on an age-old theme in the same way she has.
On the other hand, had an author like Riordan just chosen publish the continued adventures of Harry Potter and his friends, or incorporate large chunks of texts from a Potter book without Rowling’s permission, the case against him would be clear-cut. Rowling has created specific characters and settings and has a right to protect them from theft. One could point to the potential gray area of so-called “fan fiction”, through which thousands of people create their own stories using the copyrighted characters and post them online. A blind eye is usually turned to such things by creators, mostly because they are almost never published for profit and rarely gain much attention. Spokesmen for Rowling have even quoted her as being “very flattered by the fact there is such great interest in her Harry Potter series and that people take the time to write their own stories” (qtd. in Waters). On the other hand, when the creators of an unofficial online Harry Potter encyclopedia recently intended to publish a print version, Rowling justifiably blocked it and kept them from benefiting financially from her creation.
Many would point to an ideal world in which everything an artist creates can be freely shared amongst other artists without consequence. In some ways this ideal is lived up to, mostly due to the generosity and goodwill of creators. We see this in Gaiman’s dismissal of the plagiarism claims and Rowling’s encouragement of fan fiction. But the truth is that we live in a society where artists create much of their work with the hope of some financial gain. This in turn allows them the freedom to concentrate on creating more such work. Therefore, when someone co-opts the work of another without permission with the intention of financial benefit, they have crossed an ethical line and wronged their fellow artist.
Works Cited
Richards, Linda. “January Interview: Neil Gaiman.” January Magazine. N. p., Aug. 2001. Web. 19 Mar. 2010.
Waters, Darren. “Rowling Backs Potter Fan Fiction.” BBC News. BBC, 27 May 2004. Web. 19 Mar. 2010.
As with almost anything as successful as the Potter series, a great deal of litigation has grown up around it since the release of the first novel in 1997. In 1999, for example, American Nancy Kathleen Stouffer brought charges of copyright infringement up against Rowling regarding her little-known works Larry Potter and His Best Friend Lilly and The Legend of Rah and the Muggles, “muggles” being a word used by wizards in the Potter books to refer to non-magical people. The case was dismissed on the basis that the similarities were superficial and that Rowling most likely did not know about Stouffer’s books. Interestingly, The Books of Magic, a comic book series created by Neil Gaiman that shows much closer similarities to Potter led to no legal action. The series features a young English boy with dark hair and glasses named Timothy Hunter. Hunter, who grew up with no knowledge of the magical world, learns that he is destined to become a great wizard. Like Potter, he is introduced to magic by several mentors and is even given a pet owl. On the release of the first Potter book, fans of The Books of Magic were quick to point out the similarities. But Gaiman dismissed the accusation that Rowling had stolen from him, asserting in an interview that “all of the things that they actually have in common are such incredibly obvious, surface things that, had she actually been stealing, they were the things that would be first to be changed” and goes on to say that “we were both just stealing from T.H. White” (qtd. in Richards). Gaiman’s point is a pivotal one in that it demonstrates how there is little left in today’s culture that isn’t derivative. While both authors may have been inspired by T.H. White, White was himself inspired by centuries old Arthurian legends. Similarly, many of the elements of the Potter series can be similarly traced back to the folklores and mythologies of several cultures. The important thing is that the way Rowling presented these elements resonated with readers in a way that the works of many other authors have failed to. For this reason she is entitled to every penny this series has made her.
This reasoning raises a new question. If Rowling is entitled to benefit from a work that is inspired by so many others, does she have any right in turn to sue those who infringes on the Potter franchise? The success of the series has indeed inspired many imitators. Rick Riordan’s successful Percy Jackson and the Lighting Thief series, released well after the first Potter, presents the similar story of an ordinary young boy who discovers that he is part of a supernatural legacy, in this case Greek gods in place of wizards. Despite the similarities, Rowling would have no case against Riordan because he has merely created one more variation on an age-old theme in the same way she has.
On the other hand, had an author like Riordan just chosen publish the continued adventures of Harry Potter and his friends, or incorporate large chunks of texts from a Potter book without Rowling’s permission, the case against him would be clear-cut. Rowling has created specific characters and settings and has a right to protect them from theft. One could point to the potential gray area of so-called “fan fiction”, through which thousands of people create their own stories using the copyrighted characters and post them online. A blind eye is usually turned to such things by creators, mostly because they are almost never published for profit and rarely gain much attention. Spokesmen for Rowling have even quoted her as being “very flattered by the fact there is such great interest in her Harry Potter series and that people take the time to write their own stories” (qtd. in Waters). On the other hand, when the creators of an unofficial online Harry Potter encyclopedia recently intended to publish a print version, Rowling justifiably blocked it and kept them from benefiting financially from her creation.
Many would point to an ideal world in which everything an artist creates can be freely shared amongst other artists without consequence. In some ways this ideal is lived up to, mostly due to the generosity and goodwill of creators. We see this in Gaiman’s dismissal of the plagiarism claims and Rowling’s encouragement of fan fiction. But the truth is that we live in a society where artists create much of their work with the hope of some financial gain. This in turn allows them the freedom to concentrate on creating more such work. Therefore, when someone co-opts the work of another without permission with the intention of financial benefit, they have crossed an ethical line and wronged their fellow artist.
Works Cited
Richards, Linda. “January Interview: Neil Gaiman.” January Magazine. N. p., Aug. 2001. Web. 19 Mar. 2010.
Waters, Darren. “Rowling Backs Potter Fan Fiction.” BBC News. BBC, 27 May 2004. Web. 19 Mar. 2010.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Abstracts assignment
“Alice’s Adventures in Algebra: Wonderland Solved” by Melanie Bayley
New Scientist, December 16, 2009
The author argues that Lewis Carroll’s Alice books can be interpreted as a reaction against new mathematical concepts on the rise in Carroll’s time, an interpretation supported by the fact that Carroll was the penname of mathematician Charles Dodgson. The conservative and strictly Euclidian Dodgson was against the new “symbolic algebra” with its concepts like “imaginary numbers”. Dodgson satirized these concepts by taking Alice out of the rational world and placing her in one where everything and everyone behaves irrationally. The author also asserts that this satirical standpoint elevates the Alice stories above his other works, which tend to be dull and moralistic.
“Words and Pictures: Graphic Novels Come of Age” by Peter Schjeldahl
The New Yorker, October 17, 2005
The author discusses the current state of comics and graphic novels, equating the form’s current popularity among youth to that of poetry in past generations. He points to Chris Ware’s recent “Jimmy Corrigan” as possibly the first masterpiece of the form, and sees Ware’s protagonist as major archetype of comics - that of the tortured and humiliated male - which can be traced back to characters like Superman and Charlie Brown. He proceeds to look at other major influences on modern-day comics such as MAD magazine and the work of R. Crumb and the development of the form through other artist like Harvey Pekar and Art Spiegelman. After looking at the work of current artists like Daniel Clowes and Marjane Satrapi, he comes back to Ware and suggests that while “Jimmy Corrigan” could represent the pinnacle of the form, it will continue to gain new ground for years to come.
New Scientist, December 16, 2009
The author argues that Lewis Carroll’s Alice books can be interpreted as a reaction against new mathematical concepts on the rise in Carroll’s time, an interpretation supported by the fact that Carroll was the penname of mathematician Charles Dodgson. The conservative and strictly Euclidian Dodgson was against the new “symbolic algebra” with its concepts like “imaginary numbers”. Dodgson satirized these concepts by taking Alice out of the rational world and placing her in one where everything and everyone behaves irrationally. The author also asserts that this satirical standpoint elevates the Alice stories above his other works, which tend to be dull and moralistic.
“Words and Pictures: Graphic Novels Come of Age” by Peter Schjeldahl
The New Yorker, October 17, 2005
The author discusses the current state of comics and graphic novels, equating the form’s current popularity among youth to that of poetry in past generations. He points to Chris Ware’s recent “Jimmy Corrigan” as possibly the first masterpiece of the form, and sees Ware’s protagonist as major archetype of comics - that of the tortured and humiliated male - which can be traced back to characters like Superman and Charlie Brown. He proceeds to look at other major influences on modern-day comics such as MAD magazine and the work of R. Crumb and the development of the form through other artist like Harvey Pekar and Art Spiegelman. After looking at the work of current artists like Daniel Clowes and Marjane Satrapi, he comes back to Ware and suggests that while “Jimmy Corrigan” could represent the pinnacle of the form, it will continue to gain new ground for years to come.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Intellectual Autobiography
If I had to pick one moment in my life that set me down the intellectual path I am on today, it would be one afternoon when I was fourteen years old and home sick from school. I was watching TV and a basic cable station happened to be showing Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove. I had heard of the film, but had never seen it and knew little about it, and what I saw pretty much blew me away. The kind of dark humor and satire on display was fairly new to me, and spoke to me in the same way that authors like Kurt Vonnegut and Douglas Adams had also begun to around that time. That evening when I mentioned watching the movie to my father, I was surprised to learn that he considered it one of his favorites, and was a big fan of Kubrick’s films in general. Over the following months we proceeded to rent all of Kubrick’s films and watch them together. In watching these films I began to really think about the methods and possibilities of cinema. While I had seen the films of director’s like Hitchcock and Welles before, I now began to look at them in a whole new way. Going to see Kubrick’s last film, Eyes Wide Shut, with my father in the summer of 1999 was a meaningful moment for me. I had just completed my first year in New York University’s Cinema Studies program, and I had both Kubrick’s films and my father’s nurturing of my love of cinema to thank for leading me there.
While cinema was certainly my driving interest throughout my undergraduate career, it was a course outside of the Cinema Studies program in my junior year that sparked an interest in the wider field of media. The course was “Television and the Information Revolution” taught by Michael Rosenblum. Rosenblum had previously worked for CBS, but now taught this course after leaving in frustration with the industry. This course was my first exposure to media theorists like Marshall McLuhan and Neil Postman and, being someone who grew up watching a lot of television, was the first time my perceptions of the medium, and media in general, were truly challenged.
Two moments from this course stick out in my mind as having a reverberating effect on me in the years since. The first came from reading one the assigned texts – Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death. In his forward, Postman discusses the disparate futures suggested by George Orwell in 1984 and Aldous Huxley in Brave New World. When Postman’s book was written in 1985 there was an air of self-congratulation within our society over the fact that 1984 had come and gone without the bleak and oppressive world of Orwell’s novel coming to pass. But Postman argued that the future of Brave New World, one of passivity and ignorance, was the one in greater danger of becoming a reality. We were becoming a society not where “Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history”, but one in which “people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think” (xix). I was particularly struck by this because I had recently read both novels and, some fifteen years after the publication of Postman’s book, 1984 was still go-to example of a future to fear. The expression “Big Brother is watching” had pretty much become a cliché, rattled off practically every time someone saw a new security camera in a public place. At this point in my life I found myself becoming increasingly frustrated with what I saw as a rise in mediocrity in our culture. The kind of films, television and books that were the most popular I saw as dull and unoriginal. I was sometimes accused of being cynical by those close to if I expressed my opinions on this subject, but now I was hearing things that gave weight to my fears about the direction in which society was heading.
The second thing I remember most about the course came during one of Rosenblum’s lectures. One of his main ideas that came up regularly throughout the course was that network television was a dying institution. He believed that the rapidly changing face of media, particularly the rise of the internet and digital media, would render it obsolete in the near future. In this particular lecture he predicted a day when instead of watching one’s favorite program on a network station with regular commercial breaks, you would watch in on a website with a single sponsor. This was back in 2000, and I remember at that time having trouble wrapping my head around this concept. I just didn’t see people watching television on the internet. Of course today we have websites like YouTube and Hulu and in many ways his prediction has come to pass.
Watching in fascination how fast the ways in which we experience media have changed in the ten years since that lecture, sometimes faster than we can keep up with, has been a major factor in my decision to take up media as a field of study. In Digital McLuhan, Paul Levinson discusses the fact that the internet is incorporating more than just television: “the truth of the matter, yet to be fully determined, is that the Internet is and will be a combination and transformation of both books and TV, and other media such as the telephone as well, and thus is something much more, much different from any prior media” (16). For the past three years I have made a living working at a large bookstore. While not an obvious source of inspiration toward a career in media studies, it has put me in a position to observe a major change undergoing our lives. When electronic readers first went on the market they were something of a novelty, not seen by many as a threat to the print industry. Over the past two years I have watched them slowly gain momentum and start to do for reading what the iPod has done for listening to music. The main difference, of course, is that while the way we listen to music has been constantly changing, print and bound books have been a constant for centuries. The publishing and bookselling industries currently seem to be in a crisis over where this is all heading and how to adapt to these changes. The bookstore chain I work for sells Sony’s e-reader in its stores, but does not yet distribute e-books themselves. It seems to be making concession to the new technology, but by not fully embracing it could be contributing to its own downfall.
There also seems to be a split among consumers regarding this technology. The growing number of people I see reading from e-readers on the subway suggests that many have embraced it. But in speaking to customers and co-workers there seems to be a great deal of resistance to the devices. Some see the experience of reading from a bound book as a unique one and don’t feel it can be replaced. Some just like the act of collecting books and displaying them on a shelf, which e-reading could render obsolete. I often find myself wondering if these feelings are justified, or if people are just resisting something that could very well take over and become the norm in the coming years. Questions like these regarding not just how we read but take in all media in the digital age are a major preoccupation of mine – one that I hope to explore in my time in the Media Studies program.
My decision to enter the program has not been completely influenced by my interests in the theory side. A little over a year ago, on little more than a whim, I enrolled in an intensive month-long course on digital editing. I had recently found myself talking to several friends who worked in the field, and something about it stirred my interest. I began the course and I found myself taking to it immediately. Not only was I stimulated by learning a totally new technical skill, but I had also found an outlet for my creative side that had all but neglected since my high school art classes. One of the most satisfying moments came when we presented our final projects on the last day of class. The assignment had been to create a trailer for a film of our choice. I had chosen Todd Haynes’s Velvet Goldmine, partially because it was a film I had always enjoyed, and also because on watching the film’s actual trailer I found it to be an inadequate representation. My own trailer received an enthusiastic response from the class. Several students who hadn’t seen the film now felt encouraged to do so. The instructor, who had seen it, felt I captured the films major themes well without giving too much away. It was basically the exact response I was hoping for, and I then knew I had found a new calling. This positive academic experience sparked my decision to go back to school full time, and I was pleased to find in the New School’s Media Studies program one in which I could merge my theory-based and technical interests.
It’s difficult for me to say at this point where I see myself fitting into the Media Studies community in the next two years and beyond. All I can hope to do right now is take these various interests I have laid out here and build on them, while at the same time remaining open to all the new areas that I am exposed to. By remaining open-minded and flexible, I am confident that I will have solid idea of my place in this field sooner than later.
Works Cited
Levinson, Paul. Digital McLuhan. New York: Routledge, 2001.
Postman, Neil. Amusing Ourselves To Death. New York: Penguin, 2006.
While cinema was certainly my driving interest throughout my undergraduate career, it was a course outside of the Cinema Studies program in my junior year that sparked an interest in the wider field of media. The course was “Television and the Information Revolution” taught by Michael Rosenblum. Rosenblum had previously worked for CBS, but now taught this course after leaving in frustration with the industry. This course was my first exposure to media theorists like Marshall McLuhan and Neil Postman and, being someone who grew up watching a lot of television, was the first time my perceptions of the medium, and media in general, were truly challenged.
Two moments from this course stick out in my mind as having a reverberating effect on me in the years since. The first came from reading one the assigned texts – Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death. In his forward, Postman discusses the disparate futures suggested by George Orwell in 1984 and Aldous Huxley in Brave New World. When Postman’s book was written in 1985 there was an air of self-congratulation within our society over the fact that 1984 had come and gone without the bleak and oppressive world of Orwell’s novel coming to pass. But Postman argued that the future of Brave New World, one of passivity and ignorance, was the one in greater danger of becoming a reality. We were becoming a society not where “Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history”, but one in which “people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think” (xix). I was particularly struck by this because I had recently read both novels and, some fifteen years after the publication of Postman’s book, 1984 was still go-to example of a future to fear. The expression “Big Brother is watching” had pretty much become a cliché, rattled off practically every time someone saw a new security camera in a public place. At this point in my life I found myself becoming increasingly frustrated with what I saw as a rise in mediocrity in our culture. The kind of films, television and books that were the most popular I saw as dull and unoriginal. I was sometimes accused of being cynical by those close to if I expressed my opinions on this subject, but now I was hearing things that gave weight to my fears about the direction in which society was heading.
The second thing I remember most about the course came during one of Rosenblum’s lectures. One of his main ideas that came up regularly throughout the course was that network television was a dying institution. He believed that the rapidly changing face of media, particularly the rise of the internet and digital media, would render it obsolete in the near future. In this particular lecture he predicted a day when instead of watching one’s favorite program on a network station with regular commercial breaks, you would watch in on a website with a single sponsor. This was back in 2000, and I remember at that time having trouble wrapping my head around this concept. I just didn’t see people watching television on the internet. Of course today we have websites like YouTube and Hulu and in many ways his prediction has come to pass.
Watching in fascination how fast the ways in which we experience media have changed in the ten years since that lecture, sometimes faster than we can keep up with, has been a major factor in my decision to take up media as a field of study. In Digital McLuhan, Paul Levinson discusses the fact that the internet is incorporating more than just television: “the truth of the matter, yet to be fully determined, is that the Internet is and will be a combination and transformation of both books and TV, and other media such as the telephone as well, and thus is something much more, much different from any prior media” (16). For the past three years I have made a living working at a large bookstore. While not an obvious source of inspiration toward a career in media studies, it has put me in a position to observe a major change undergoing our lives. When electronic readers first went on the market they were something of a novelty, not seen by many as a threat to the print industry. Over the past two years I have watched them slowly gain momentum and start to do for reading what the iPod has done for listening to music. The main difference, of course, is that while the way we listen to music has been constantly changing, print and bound books have been a constant for centuries. The publishing and bookselling industries currently seem to be in a crisis over where this is all heading and how to adapt to these changes. The bookstore chain I work for sells Sony’s e-reader in its stores, but does not yet distribute e-books themselves. It seems to be making concession to the new technology, but by not fully embracing it could be contributing to its own downfall.
There also seems to be a split among consumers regarding this technology. The growing number of people I see reading from e-readers on the subway suggests that many have embraced it. But in speaking to customers and co-workers there seems to be a great deal of resistance to the devices. Some see the experience of reading from a bound book as a unique one and don’t feel it can be replaced. Some just like the act of collecting books and displaying them on a shelf, which e-reading could render obsolete. I often find myself wondering if these feelings are justified, or if people are just resisting something that could very well take over and become the norm in the coming years. Questions like these regarding not just how we read but take in all media in the digital age are a major preoccupation of mine – one that I hope to explore in my time in the Media Studies program.
My decision to enter the program has not been completely influenced by my interests in the theory side. A little over a year ago, on little more than a whim, I enrolled in an intensive month-long course on digital editing. I had recently found myself talking to several friends who worked in the field, and something about it stirred my interest. I began the course and I found myself taking to it immediately. Not only was I stimulated by learning a totally new technical skill, but I had also found an outlet for my creative side that had all but neglected since my high school art classes. One of the most satisfying moments came when we presented our final projects on the last day of class. The assignment had been to create a trailer for a film of our choice. I had chosen Todd Haynes’s Velvet Goldmine, partially because it was a film I had always enjoyed, and also because on watching the film’s actual trailer I found it to be an inadequate representation. My own trailer received an enthusiastic response from the class. Several students who hadn’t seen the film now felt encouraged to do so. The instructor, who had seen it, felt I captured the films major themes well without giving too much away. It was basically the exact response I was hoping for, and I then knew I had found a new calling. This positive academic experience sparked my decision to go back to school full time, and I was pleased to find in the New School’s Media Studies program one in which I could merge my theory-based and technical interests.
It’s difficult for me to say at this point where I see myself fitting into the Media Studies community in the next two years and beyond. All I can hope to do right now is take these various interests I have laid out here and build on them, while at the same time remaining open to all the new areas that I am exposed to. By remaining open-minded and flexible, I am confident that I will have solid idea of my place in this field sooner than later.
Works Cited
Levinson, Paul. Digital McLuhan. New York: Routledge, 2001.
Postman, Neil. Amusing Ourselves To Death. New York: Penguin, 2006.
First Post
Thus begins my new blog. I'm creating it to primarly be a place to post my work for my Understanding Media Class, but will hopefully evolve into something more. For the sake of having some content on here, this is the first (and only, so far) thing I've posted to YouTube. It was a moment from a movie that, while not intentionally funny, had me rolling on the floor. Apparently many agreed, and the video currently has over 26,000 views. Enjoy!
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