At 100 Miles Per Hour (Superman: Red Son)

A Charity Commission for Jake

TL;DR: Mark Millar Licks Goats

My copy of Superman: Red Son is placed on the bottom row of my first bookcase. I’ve had this bookcase since I was a little kid. Red Son was not among the first comic book trades I ever owned (that would probably be various Simpsons comics). But I order the majority of comics I own by when I got them. The placement of Red Son is directly underneath my copy of Nimona and I first read it around the time I discovered Hamish Steele via the web comic series Doctor Who Regenerated. I got it on a trip to a college in Michigan for a week long seminar. I had just concluded my junior year of High School. The year was 2012. We were riding on the train and I had decided not to bring my computer or iPod (I would not get an iPhone until 2013) for reasons I do not fully remember.

At the right end of the shelf lies one of the first Superhero comics I ever owned: Spider-Man: Reign. I got the comic for Christmas from my Aunt Kathy, along with Spider-Man: The Other and Fallen Son: The Death of Captain America. Of the three comics, Reign is the only one I still own. The comic is a bit of a hot mess, but then I’ve always been attracted to those. Among its major issues, the story needed another issue (or to have its four issues be longer) to allow it to truly breathe. Ostensibly, it’s a riff on The Dark Knight Returns (right down to having one of its characters be named Miller Jansen). However, as the narrative goes on, the Miller influence peels away like a mask made of flesh and reveals itself to be a story about self-loathing, healing, and heroic terrorism. One notable part the comic is famous for is the notion that Spider-Man killed his wife with radioactive fluids. However, the truth of the matter is more complicated. It’s a lie. One of those mad lies you tell yourself when you’re grieving to place the blame of the act onto you and only you. The kind that fall apart once you actually say them aloud. So you just internalize it as a cudgel to hurt yourself. Because moving on means leaving them behind.

On the left end lies All Star Superman. I got it for my 13^th birthday a few years before owning Red Son. It acts as a bookend to the shelf to hold the other books. Earlier today, May 8, 2020, El Sandifer continued her poll for the best work by the main five writers of her series Last War in Albion consisting of Grant Morrison, Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, and Kieron Gillen. Of the two polls she released today, the one she made the hardest case for was between All Star Superman and From Hell. I voted for the latter, but more importantly was her case for the Moore comic, in particular, “Its wandering, looping sense of unfocused comprehensiveness informs everything I do. The idea that you can make an argument by implication, and more to the point that there are insights you can only get by sketching around a thing until it appears in the negative space.”

The book right next to Red Son, on its right, is Nextwave: Agents of HATE. It was among the books I got on that trip to Michigan (along with six others). Shortly before I began writing this article, I had a conversation with comics critic and internet friend Ritesh Babu, wherein we talked about late period creators. It began with Grant Morrison noting that he only has 12 years left to live and how he’s writing like he doesn’t have anything to lose. It evolved into a conversation about late period works of the old guard, Moore leaving the game, Gaiman being Gaiman, Ennis moving to TKO. But eventually, we hit upon Warren Ellis. Recently, Ellis attempted to create his own imprint where he could publish works. It failed due to the recent plague that’s been going around. He seems disheartened by his career, calling it middling. We speculated on the reasons for the reaction, pondering if he’s in a mood and what the context of Ellis’ success and influence within the medium truly was. Perhaps the most telling part of the conversation was when Ritesh noted, “it is arguable that most of the impact he did have, especially via The Authority, Mark Millar stole and warped into his own terribly perverse reduction (esp via Ultimates) leading to Nextwave, where in Ellis can only laugh at how things are.”

To Red Son’s left is a copy of Astonishing Spider-Man & Wolverine, but the more interesting comic (also purchased in that period) is Flex Mentallo: Man of Muscle Mystery. The relationship between Grant Morrison and Mark Millar is perhaps among the most interesting in the history of the comics medium, certainly moreso than Morrison and Moore (which typically devolves into the banal argument about whether comics should be deconstructed or reconstructed made by people who think those words mean “Dark” and “light” and that they are the epitome of those ideas when both have done work in the other field). Initially, Millar and Morrison had what could be called a mentor student relationship (what Morrison currently has with Gerard Way, minus the shipping). However, sometime around the release of Red Son, they had a falling out such that, as Morrison put it in an interview, “he destroyed my faith in human fucking nature.” The circumstances for such a reaction are largely up to speculation, though many suspect that it has to do with Morrison not getting credit for work done on the Authority and Red Son. It has been widely reported that the ending of Red Son comes from Morrison. I have my own suspicions that I don’t feel comfortable making due to it involving two people I do not know. Though it’s telling that Morrison had further still to fall…

Four books to Red Son’s right is Marvel 1602. It (along with Batman: Detective no. 27 and the hardcover version of the Venom arc from Ultimate Spider-Man) was among the first comics I ever read. Not in the sense of flipping through the pages without really paying attention to the words. But actually reading the stories within. And the worlds they implied were fascinating, delightful, and fun. In the years since, I’ve cooled on 1602, but I still owe it for getting me into the comic book medium. To show its wide application. In High School, I tried to pitch the medium to an anime club I wasn’t a part of. (I could tell they didn’t want me there). In my pitch, I tried to play the “comics aren’t just for kids” game as I was a tad bit embarrassed by my comics fandom. I highlighted the grotesque violence comics could provide, noting the sex and gore of the medium. I didn’t make a good case for it. Yes, there’s sex and gore in comics, but that’s not all comics are. There’s also romance and strangeness, and grids and lettering, and so much more. Among the comics I was pitching was Superman: Red Son.

Four books to the left is the final volume of Jason Aaron’s Punisher MAX run. It tells the story of an old man, broken by tragedy and the cruelty he spread. It tells of how he spent the last days, fighting an intelligent bald man with contempt in his eyes living in a loveless marriage to a woman he barely sees. It’s a violent brutal end, with the titular character dying the way he lived. It ends on a seemingly triumphant note with the legacy of the Punisher being more violence and cruelty upon the world. A vicious cycle of horror and monstrosity that will never come to an end. The legacy of the cold war from which Frank Castle sprung from infects the world around it, creating a crueler world indeed. The war will never end. It will just go on and on and on until even the heat death of the universe can’t stop it.

A Myth is Inconsumable (Superman The Dark Side)

Commissioned by Michael

Mister Miracle by Tom King and Mitch Gerrads

Superman does not belong in the realm of the New Gods. This is not a condemnation of the character, but a simple statement of facts that many a writer has missed for very sympathetic reasons. Those being the New Gods saga written by Jack Kirby began in the pages of a Superman title. Indeed, Darkseid himself first appeared in an issue of Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen (specifically, issue #134). But the thing about Superman’s interactions with Darkseid is that there’s never a face to face confrontation between the two. Superman’s always in the margins of the narrative of the war between the New Gods, dealing with minor concerns of the war such as the planet of the Universal Horror Monsters or Don Rickles’ evil twin brother (it should be noted that though Darkseid appears in an issue of a Superman comic, he only appears on a television screen, never once actually being present in the flesh). Contrast that with the Forever People literally going to war with Darkseid’s version of Disneyland or Orion acting as a subversive agent against Darkseid’s ploys to make everyone afraid of everyone, and you can see a marked difference in importance.

The closest Superman ever gets to a one on one fight with Darkseid is an issue of The Forever People, easily the weakest of Jack Kirby’s New Gods stories. There, Darkseid has kidnapped one of the Forever People, Beautiful Dreamer, in order to discover the Anti-Life Equation: the ultimate Red Pill, which will make people realize that the only way is through Darkseid. And yet, Superman never has fisticuffs with Darkseid throughout this encounter. Indeed, he’s a largely passive presence in the scene, to the point where the sole panel where both Superman and Darkseid appear, the Man of Steel is shaded to such a degree that, without the rest of the page, you could imagine any other superhero taking his place.

But perhaps the most telling bit is in the penultimate issue of Superman’s involvement in the New Gods saga, Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen #147: Superman in Supertown. There, the Man of Tomorrow gets a chance to visit New Genesis, where, as shown at the end of the first Forever People issue, he longed to be. There, a flying strong man is considered normal to the point where him entering New Genesis isn’t even remarked upon with a “Look, up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s Superman!” And yet, every time Superman tries to help, he ultimately misunderstands the situations and ends up doing more harm than good. Ultimately, as Superman confides to Highfather (without ever identifying himself as such), there’s little need for someone like Superman on New Genesis. He doesn’t adjust well to a world where being a superhuman is just another mundanity like being able to sing or be a pal. And so, Superman returns to Earth instead of remaining on this strange alien world that, by all rights, should be his home, but isn’t. Earth certainly wasn’t where he was born, but it is where he feels the most at ease. It’s a place where he believes he belongs. The same could be said of Scott Free, I suppose (though, to a different degree. Ultimately, putting Superman into the mythology of the New Gods would be akin to putting him into the mythology of William Blake’s pantheon).

A key aspect of Jonathan and Martha Kent
is that they're both flagrantly socialists.
This is what they'd be like if they were capitalists.

Which brings us to Superman The Dark Side, an Elseworlds comic that hypothesizes what would happen if Superman’s rocket landed on Apokolips. What would happen if Superman were an actual main figure within the New Gods saga and how would that warp the DC Universe around him? The answer, as it turns out, is actually a lot better than it could have been. For starters, the narrative is aware of the anticapitalist aspect of the original New Gods comics (again, literally going to war with Disneyland) as well as the ultimate message that it’s our connections to one another that help us through the darkest times. Most tales of Superman dealing with the New Gods would simplify the narrative such that Darkseid would be a mere Super Duper Bad Guy Who Punches Really Really Hard.

But The Dark Side knows that Darkseid isn’t merely the baddiest baddie there is. He is the ultimate shape of evil; that which desires simply to be the boot that stomps on the face of existence forever. Complex in his multitudes, but simple in his ambitions. To even try to play the game on his terms would only end in a sound and thorough defeat. The logic of a (modern) Superman story where all can be defeated with a few punches is rejected as useless in favor of collective action.

That isn’t to say that the comic is perfect. I don’t fully agree with the decision to have Scott Free be displaced into the Metron role as part of the consequences of Superman being on Apokolips, not the least of which because the comic doesn’t really sell the Kal-El/Big Barda romance. Some of the plot details are a bit off as well. One moment I remember finding a bit odd even on my first read was that Lois was perfectly fine with Kal-El being a planet murdering bastard until Orion told her he destroyed New Genesis (a thing Kal-El brought up three times). And the comic doesn’t really explore the imperialist implications of Krypton that it brings up near the end of Act II/beginning of Act III.

But there’s a lot to love with the comic. The designs are delightful in both their adherence to the original Jack Kirby designs as well as the new spins Kieron Dwyer brings to them. I love the riff on Jon and Martha Kent being less a lonely family in need of a child and more capitalists who would sell each other out if it meant they could get rich. Making Bibbo the heart of the book is an inspired choice that highlights the themes of community and shines a light on a path forward for a war torn society such that the New Gods find themselves within. And Granny Goodness doming Lex Luthor is always going to be delightful.

It’s not as good as, say, Grant Morrison’s or Jack Kirby’s or even Tom King’s efforts with the New Gods. But, if you want to read a fun little comic, you could do worse.

"Now, Superman cannot "consume" himself since a myth is "inconsumable." The hero of the classical myth became "inconsumable" precisely because he was already "consumed" in some exemplary action. Or else he had the possibility of  continuing rebirth or of symbolizing some vegetative cycle--or at least a certain circularity of events or even of life itself. But Superman is myth on condition of being a creature immersed in everyday life, in the present, apparently tied to our own conditions of life and death even if endowed with superior faculties. An immortal Superman would no longer be a man, but a god, and the public's identification with his double identity would fall by the wayside."
-Umberto Eco, The Myth of Superman