Change and Batman

     I am currently playing Batman: Arkham City. It is probably the greatest video game since Tetris. Between playing a Batman video game, avoiding previews for the new Batman movie and planning to head to Barnes and Noble to catch up on my Batman reading, I've got a lot of dark brooding on the brain.

     When I subbed last week, a student asked me who my favorite superhero is. When I replied with "Batman," he rolled his eyes and informed me that I had made a boring choice. I told him what I tell everyone who will listen:

     Batman is the only character that can change.

     Change is death in a serial story. Think about all of the sitcoms you have watched. When things start to really, fundamentally change, the show goes downhill. Chandler and Monica get married, House gets fired, Monk solves Trudy's murder. All shows that aren't meant to tell a finite story, but instead intend to last for as long as they possibly can, have to avoid change for as long as possible. If you want to have a sitcom that can last for 12 years, you need to have stable characters that new fans can jump in to and immediately understand what's going on. In my mind, The Big Bang Theory is the perfect example of this today. If you turned on a new episode, you'd get there are 4 nerds, one who is smarter than the rest, one who is Indian and shy, one who is Jewish and horny, and one who is trying to be sort of normal. There is a cute girl across the hall. Hi-jinks ensue.

     The Simpsons is the prime example. Lisa is the smartest person in Springfield and has been in grade school for over 20 years now. No matter how an episode ends, you know the next one is going to start with everything back to normal. The show can last as long as it has because nothing ever really changes.
     This is especially true for comic books. Spider-Man and Superman can't evolve and grow as characters. Why? Because they are supposed to appeal to kids, really. Kids aren't concerned with character growth or development, but with cool fight scenes and funny jokes. More importantly, if the characters change and grow, new fans can't adopt as easily. Comics are in a state of trying to balance their adult fans with finding new, young fans for their future. They do this by "rebooting" their comic lines every decade or so.
     So Superman is always going to fight Lex Luthor. Spider-Man will always have trouble balancing work, school and hero-ing. Things external to them can change - sometimes Lois and Clark are together or aren't and sometimes Spider-man can't make any webbing - but the characters themselves change little.

     This is not the case with Batman, and the world he inhabits. He's always mad and dark and essentially ageless. But, he changes. There have been periods where he is intensely paranoid, not trusting anyone not named Alfred. Sometimes he works to rehabilitate Two Face, while other times the beats he crap out of him. The Riddler turns from a villain to a Private Investigator, because he loves the puzzles. Gotham had a devastating, crippling earthquake. Currently, there are actually two Batman's (Batmen?) if I understand correctly. Bruce Wayne is Batmanning all over the world while the first Robin is Batmanning in Gotham. Change happens.

That Batman up there? That's the original Robin.
That Robin? Bruce Wayne's son. That's  what I call change.

     Part of why I am so fond of the Dark Knight is because of the complex nature of Bruce Wayne. But the main reason I can keep reading Batman is because there's a progression. He will become more and more obsessed with stopping crime, then something happens and he becomes more focused on using his resources as a billionaire to aid Gotham, and then he works to train those around him (like Robins and such) to be more effective.
     There are things that can't change. Bruce Wayne can't really age, because that means that an end is in sight. He can't reveal his identity, because then everything's fundamentally different. He can't really die. But, beyond the major, the sub-major is in flux.
     I haven't really read a new Batman comic in a couple of years. Borders bookstores closed (maybe I should have bought some of those comics?), a baby came, etc. Next chance I get I want to catch up. That's the point, though, I have stuff to learn. I can tell you right now that Spider-Man is struggling to balance his life and Superman is fighting some enormous ideal, because that's what they've been doing for my entire life. No change. The change is what makes Batman unique and worthwhile.

Batman: Literary Triumph

     I am drawn to a specific type of story. I love Sherlock Holmes, Jason Bourne, The Count of Monte Cristo, Batman, and I recently read a novel called Shogun. All of the characters in these stories don't have a rags-to-riches tale. They aren't unwilling heroes, they aren't fulfilling some grand destiny, and they never rejected the call to be a hero. They start out strong, smart, talented and clever, and - with the exception of Sherlock - are terribly wronged. Be it by chance, conspiracy, or nature, each of the above men are thrown into a world they must adapt to, master, and then ultimately manipulate. I don't know why I like these stories so much;  it's probably an attraction to power at some level. But when you read through the above characters and titles, they are all well renowned works of fiction and literature. Sherlock lives on today, Bourne was Robert Ludlum's greatest triumph, The Count is considered a classic, and Shogun has its merits as well. Does Batman belong in that list?

Nothing about this guy isn't cool

     There's been a long, intellectual debate if comics can be art. I think they settled on "yes," though the answer wasn't that simple. But, more specifically, can a "superhero" by a triumph of literature? In general, I doubt it, with Batman, certainly.
     Like The Count of Monte Cristo, Batman was wronged at a young age, trained and learned in solitude, inhereted a buttload of money, returned home in a disguise and was loved and famous. Like Jason Bourne, his family was taken from him and he broke down. Like Sherlock, he has an encyclopedic knowledge and understanding of the world around him and solves crimes on higher plane than the police. (Actually, I think the Batman story borrowed heavily from all of those characters, as well as Zorro.)
     My fascination with Batman began at a young age. I liked his cool cave, fast car, and that he threw batarangs. He was in a simply perfect cartoon that caught me at the right age. But I was also into Spider-man and Superman and The Ninja Turtles when I was young, and all of those interests have essentially faded (meaning I don't express them in public too often). But I still find Batman very compelling.
     He's terribly human. He fails all the time. He once had a Robin die under his watch (there have been multiple Robins, each less gay than his predecessor). Another partner was paralyzed by The Joker. He's been tricked and manipulated by women he loved. He's had his back literally broken by a nemesis. He has to live with these failures and deal with them daily, and they play with his mind and are a backdrop for every decision he makes. Reading his stories is very similar to reading about more respected characters from literature's annals.

This blog exists to justify more cool pictures

     He's not like other superheroes. Superman is fun because you get to see just how strong he is. But every comic kind of has to one-up the previous comic. He lifts a car, then a plane, then a boat, then a building, then an asteroid. He once saved the whole universe by restarting its energy or something. Pretty soon you realize that to make Superman interesting, he has to be an idiot. He has super strength and speed, but somehow decides to stop and talk, real close, to the bad guy with kryptonite behind his back. Superman's stories lose their hold after a while, because of course he's going to win. His dog is stronger and smarter than all of us.
     I could go on and on. In fact I plan to, some other time(s). I think Batman is worth reading, simply because he's downright interesting. Not just in a "wow he just beat up 17 people!!" way, but simply as a character with flaws, depth and struggles.

     If you'd like to try reading some Batman, the "graphic novel" (fancy term for "collection of comics") called Batman: Hush is phenomenal. The artwork is stunning, the characters and plot move fast, and the story is very clever. Go sit in Borders Barnes and Noble, buy a coffee and read it.
     (I like to believe that if you buy a drink you aren't stealing so much as paying for a service.)

Worth reading

The Case of the Unyielding Detective

     I read an article a couple of years ago in an airport. I don't remember who wrote it, or who published it. I will not investigate these details. The author of the article (I'm pretty sure she was a woman) claims that Sherlock Holmes is the most enduring character in literary history. What she means is that even to this day, people are still writing stories about him, debating gaps in his known timelines, and retro-fitting him for new generations.
    She's right -- assuming she was a girl -- as far as I can tell. People can't get enough of this guy, or the world he inhabited. Characters that only appear once or twice, or who are referenced a few times, have entire collections of work based on them (like Irene Adler, the closest thing to a "crush" we see Sherlock have, or his nemesis Professor Moriarty who, to my knowledge, only makes a physical appearance once but is discussed in maybe four or five stories). Why is that? I want to explore what makes him so dang appealing, popular, and enduring.

    Let's start with the facts. After all, Sherlock never formed theories without first gathering all of the facts, as it leads to bias. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote the first story involving the detective Sherlock Holmes, A Study in Scarlet in 1887. It is a simply fantastic read. If you've never read it, or any Sherlock, read A Study in Scarlet. Doyle would write short stories that would appear in a magazine of the time, and publish short novels every couple of years as well.
     The character of Sherlock Holmes is based on a doctor that Doyle (himself a physician) knew. This doctor was known for looking a patient up and down, inspecting some various, innocuous aspects of physical appearance or personal belongings, and then being able to recount where this patient had been and what he or she had been doing with astonishing accuracy. In fact, this doctor was the Queen's favorite doctor solely for this ability. Doyle took this idea and wanted to apply it to detective work, and thus Sherlock was born.

     I think this is part of the key to Holmes's endurance. He's almost possible. He's based on a real doctor, and takes this real doctor's abilities to the extreme through essentially memorizing every possible detail he can about London, and solving all sorts of cases throughout London. These things are within one's grasp, if one wants to pursue them. Sherlock could exist. Superman will never exist. Spider-Man can't exist. Batman and James Bond simply tempt fate and beat the odds too often to be real. The heroes of fiction are grand, but not practically possible. But the heroes of the real world -- which I guess are policemen, firefighters, soldiers and math teachers -- are too real. They're plain and boring and don't swing through cities or save the world daily. They die. Sherlock is right in that sweet spot of making you think, for chapters at a time, that this person could be real.
     But he just couldn't possibly be a real person. Sherlock is simply too smart, too correct and too resourceful to exist. Yet, even as I write those words, I know that nothing that he accomplishes is so extraordinary as to be unbelievable. Even now, I can't decide if he could be a real person or not. He's almost possible. This is a quality that is rare for heroes. We like to identify with our heroes, see ourselves in them in as many ways as we can delude ourselves into believing that, with a little work and luck, I could be just like them. With Sherlock, it's simultaneously possible to identify with him AND to dismiss him that it's easy to obsess over him.
     This is either the genius or the dumb luck of Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes is a fairly inconsistent character. He claims to know nothing of the world outside of his trade (once stating that a) he didn't know that the Earth revolved around the sun, and b) once Watson informs him of this, he will do everything in his power to forget it, as it has no bearing on detective work), yet he will solve cases with observations of the nuances of political processes or familial relations. In one paragraph, Doyle can shock you with how absolutely calloused and self-absorbed Sherlock can be, but two chapters later you forget this when Sherlock analyzes a lover's quarrel for motive or telling bits of evidence. He walks the line of being possible or not possible in almost everything he does.

     I also attribute Holmes's endurance to how hard it is to write a good mystery story. A couple weeks ago I was pondering how hard certain types of characters can be to sell to audiences. Indulge me: If I wanted to make a movie about the richest man in the world, I'd show him with stuff and houses and at parties, and say "this is the richest man in the world." If I wanted to make a movie about the prettiest girl in the world, I'd find a pretty girl and -- in my movie -- make every guy fall for her and want her, put her on covers and in the news, and state over and over "this is the prettiest girl in the world." These two characters wouldn't be hard to sell to an audience.
     If I wanted to make a movie about the funniest guy in the world, I myself would have to be VERY funny. I couldn't have my character crack bad jokes and make the other actors laugh hysterically. The audience would see through it. I couldn't have all the other characters in my movie say "that guy is the funniest guy in the world," because if he was, the audience would already know it by how hard they were laughing. I'd have to be the funniest guy in the world to make that character believable, and if I were that funny I wouldn't make up some character, I'd get my own sitcom. That's a tough character to sell to an audience.
     Well, making Sherlock the smartest man in the world is very hard for the same reasons it'd be hard to make the funniest guy in the world. Additionally, he has to be smart in a way the audience can appreciate, which means he can't be too smart (which is why Doyle had the character Watson record and publish the stories). So Doyle has to make up a mystery, and give this mystery clues that Sherlock will notice but we won't, and then present these clues and evidence in such a convincing manner that we simultaneously think three things: a) that's so brilliant, b) that's so simple, and c) that's the only possible explanation. In reality, when I re-read a Sherlock story, option (c) doesn't hold up. Sherlock will give an explanation of the facts in a way that makes it sound like only his version is possible, but of course that's not the case, how could it be? He's not possible, but he's so damn good.
     Sherlock is extremely smart in a few areas: detective work, chemistry, encylcopedic knowledge of crime and some trivia. He has no bearings of anything else and claims that he's that way intentionally. This is downright fascinating, that a guy as smart as Sherlock is actually so smart that he can only be entertained through puzzles and mysteries of rare and magnificent complexity or simplicity (and he uses heroin and opiates to pass the time inbetween these mysteries. Who is this guy?) He's brilliant enough to make the decision to limit his brilliance to a few areas. What? He's not possible.

     Sir Arthur Conan Doyle didn't know what to do with Holmes. The character grew so big so fast that all people wanted out of him was more mysteries. Those things can't be easy to write. The detail, backstory, evidence to give and to withhold, it had to be stressful. So Doyle killed Sherlock. He killed him in the most unsatsifying, non-committal way possible just to give himself a break (basically said "maybe he fell off this cliff and over a waterfall"). And Doyle took a break from Sherlock for several years, before writing some more stories that took place years after his non-committal, maybe-he's-dead-but-he's-probably-not death. Want to know what this did? This opened the doors (unintentionally, I am sure) for people to write more stories about Sherlock. What did he do in those inbetween years? He claims he was in Africa, but what does that mean? And the whole time? Why stop there? Watson didn't publish EVERY case that Sherlock was involved in. Oftentimes he only alluded to some. Let's publish some more of those stories also.
     Suddenly, its as if Sherlock lives like some comic book character, always getting more stories and plots, sometimes aging and changing and sometimes not, and he's going to live forever. Someone is always going to have one more story to write about this guy. He's the most enduring character in literary history.

     Want proof that Sherlock is an enduring character? House. Doctor Gregory House, his pal Dr Wilson, his superior Dr Cuddy, and his three fellowship lackeys at any given time are all taken straight from Sherlock Holmes. The creator of House even said so, from the beginning. Remember how Sherlock was based on a doctor? Well House is a doctor based on a detective based on a doctor. Wilson is obviously Watson, his only friend and humanizing aspect; Cuddy represents the London police: holding the authority but recognizing their inferiority and need for him. The other three fellowship lackeys exist just so we can experience and understand House's brilliance, arrogance and lack of knowledge in any other settings outside of medicine (and he's addicted to drugs to escape the pain of his existence). Any wonder that show was (is) so incredibly popular and successful for so long? Because House is Sherlock, and people love Sherlock.
     Another example is the TV show Monk. Like House, it is an extremely successful show that won a ton of awards. It was simply Sherlock taken to its logical conclusion: Sherlock was messed up, and needed an outlet. Again, the creators of this show stated from day one that it was essentially Sherlock for San Francisco. (If you haven't watched Monk, it is truly a wonderful show in every sense. Check it out, it's on Netflix Instant).
    I could go all day, but I'll give one more: Batman. Batman is Sherlock Holmes in spandex and with money. Batman actually started in Detective Comics and was supposed to be a crime serial. You probably didn't know that Sherlock was a master fencer, boxer, and knew some martial arts as well. Kind of like Batman. You better believe I have spent a lot of time comparing these two characters and analyzing their similarities. You also better not ask me why, because that would be embarrassing.

   Are Batman, Monk or House possible characters? Could they exist in real life? I seriously don't know. It's brilliant.

    I'll leave with this. There was a BBC series in 2010 called Sherlock that put Sherlock and Watson in modern-day London. It was perfect. Go watch it. It's on Netflix Instant, and can probably be found elsewhere. Three episodes, about 90 minutes each, were made in 2010 and three more are set to come out soon in 2011. Watch them. Additionally, there is another Sherlock movie coming out soon, the sequel to the last one with Robert Downey Junior. I appreciated the first film because it didn't seek to make Holmes old and stuffy. In "real life," Sherlock was athletic, excitable, engrossing and physically imposing. Most importantly he was an absolute master of disguise, employing them in nearly every adventure (just like Batman).
     There is so much great Sherlock Holmes out there for you to consume. Check it out. He makes you smarter. He makes you want to be a better person at whatever it is you do. He is dangerous in the way he thinks and approaches life. I just don't know if he's possible.