Posted: 07 March 2013 at 7:59pm | IP Logged | 3
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About characters aging in comics: even as a ten year old kid, and even as much as I loved FANTASTIC FOUR when this issue came out:
I had a moment of confusion with Marv Wolfman's resolution.
Namely, the FF, at the end of the Sphinx/Galactus epic, are returned to vitality after what seems like death claimed them.
All the members are, if I recall correctly, not only more powerful than they were before, but "younger" as well.
Essentially, they are given a physical reboot, in order to explain the passage of time (as Ben and Reed both served in WW 2.) As a 10-yr old, I just hadn't thought about it. This was also within a year of Reed Richards, who had lost his powers prior to issue 200, regaining those powers and also having them strengthened. So Reed, by ish 215, is twice as powerful and half as younger.
Again, I didn't see the need for it. As a kid, it never occurred to me to wonder why Reed and Ben weren't middle-aged in 1979; I could clearly see, by their character, both were grown men. The age thing wasn't specific. I knew they were adults, Sue a bit younger, and Johnny (also subtly aging) now a college student.
But in all, they were older than myself, indicative of what lay "ahead" of me in my life. Fictional though they were, the Fantastic Four were preparing me, educating me, on what it was to be an adult. The responsibility, the problems, each character has reflects their age bracket; I assumed I would experience a real-world version of the FF's problems, while at the same time, having the education provided by these characters--moral and ethical--to make choices and deal with life.
This was inherent in the superhero stories. Superheroes are referred to as "male empowerment fantasies"--and such they are in this hubris-infected culture--but the characters I encountered were teachers and instructors, lessons provided by men and women who created the comics, of whom I was only beginning to become aware.
The idea was, superhero comics were designed to prepare kids to grow up, while still enforcing their imaginative lives and allowing them to find outlets for their dreams. These kids, like myself, would never swing around a city like Spider-Man, but we would, perhaps, act to save a real human being trapped in a burning building.
Until superheroes are returned to that status, of being representative of the ideals of courage and responsibility every child needs to learn, they'll remain empty carcasses, to be filled with the sexual preoccupation and petty superficial viewpoints of comic creators who have never grown up. Peter Pans all, in graphic t-shirts and ball caps hardly removed from their parent-paid college tuition, still arguing over whether Black Widow is "hotter" than Scarlet Witch. Marvel and DC Comics as corporate daycare for spastic children.
The problem isn't the comics, or their timelines or continuity; the problem is the creators of the superheroes refusing to acknowledge the hard truths of the world. And the first real truth?
Let go of juvenile superhero worship, so you (as a realized adult) can actually write about superheroes the way they're supposed to be written!
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