I work in IT. Tier one technical support to be precise. If you've ever seen an episode of The IT Crowd or called a toll-free number for help configuring your router you've got a rough idea of what I do. I help with your e-mail, I replace toner cartridges when the ink runs out in the printer. I loan out laptops and mice and ensure they can connect to the Internet if you need to train. Not a horrible career as they go, and it keeps the wolves fed while I do my best to hasten the arrival of my inevitable stardom(which at 37 years old better pick up on the hastening, but that's a whole other story). The point is, I help people. I enjoy helping people, and I like to examine problems and see if there's a solution that can benefit a person or persons in need. I wouldn't have hung on damn near a decade in the business if I didn't derive some satisfaction from it, however distant.
I enjoy superhero fiction. Superheroes are born problem-solvers. Whether due to training from youth or the empowering light of a yellow sun, superheroes take on challenges and do their best to overcome them in the service of helping others. By no means realistic, but it's fun and it speaks to something in me that responds to the notion of might for right. Of using one's inherent gifts to help. That's got a lot of appeal as a fantasy, just look at the box office numbers lately. The notion of getting past all the red tape and the obstruction and the mistrust and the bullshit and just going out and kicking some ass in the name of what's right has a lot of appeal. The myth of the superhero is an appealing archetype and provides us with both entertainment and an ideal to aspire toward. That's great and I wouldn't change a thing.
A common trope I see in comics and film is the notion of "superheroes in the real world" or statements along the lines of "we took great pains to ground this film in reality". This sentiment of taking the iconic heroes of youth and placing them in a setting like our contemporary world had an initial appeal in my youth (I remember years past being stoked beyond words at how badass the 1989 Batman film had made the Dark Knight in terms of his mainstream appeal) but as I've grown older it's become more and more problematic to me. You could argue it's age and seeing the past through rose-coloured glasses, or a desire to keep my childhood icons from being forced from the idyllic realm of Good versus Evil and into the gray morass of the world outside my window, but I think the reason is inherently tied in to my experience in IT. There's really a simple reason why we all should be extremely grateful that superheroes don't exist in the real world.
They would go completely and irrevocably insane.
Day after day, I deal with easily same problems (or variations on the theme). Helping people who run the gamut in terms of personality and technical ability. And for the most part they're wonderful people. Who invariably experience similar problems. Over and over and over and over. . .the stress can build on a body. It's definitely built on mine. Hell, in 2004 when I started working in the business I had hair. And it was brown. Now the few battered enclaves of follicles left on my head are brown turning gray. There have been moments when I have felt intensely happy to have helped out. . .and moments when I've cheerfully thought about taking a Louisville slugger to the nearest workstation and continue until every last vile glowing box has been smashed to bits.
I've been reading Boom Studios' IRREDEEMABLE, Mark Waid's brilliant deconstruction of the superhero and his place in the world, and it's nothing short of breathtaking in just how low one hero can sink after years of letting that pressure build until it finally erupts. Superheroes are comforting enough on the page because within the universes created for them they can make a difference and the challenges they face are so often are external threats. But what happens when it's just the simple act of having to deal with the same level of crisis day after day after day without respite? Constantly hearing cries for help with your super-hearing and never getting a moment's peace? Or of being completely impervious to pain but a simple caress of a hand in your hair would cut a potential partner's hand to ribbons? And the worst bit, the absolute worst, is being able to discern the naysayers and critics even when 95% of the people love you. Because we all do it really; no matter how much praise we receive we invariably focus like a laser pointer on the negative.
Imagine the worst day you have ever had. He dumped you. You lost your job. You got cheated out of that promotion. You get raked over the coals for something you didn't do. Imagine all of that, all of it. . .and then imagine you could shoot lasers from your eyes. Imagine you could flip a tank with one hand. Imagine you can crush coal into diamond. You're a nice enough person, so of course you help out as best you can but it just never stops, does it? There's always someone else to save, some other disaster to halt, another kitten in a tree and it just keeps going. It's not like a regular job where you at least get to take a break while someone else can spot you, is it? And what recompense do you get other than a pat on the back and a smile? Imagine being on-call twenty-four seven for these ungrateful little shits who constantly need, need, NEED--
Lord Acton once wrote "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." In a fantasy, we know that the hero is true and just and good because for the most part that's how the writer envisioned him. Superheroes work brilliantly when they're fighting to save the world in a universe of jet packs, aliens, talking gorillas, and time travel. In reality, superheroes would be people. And people never handle power well. Much like salt, realism is best used sparingly, to enhance the flavor of a dish. Dump it on wholesale and the taste is ruined. I hope that the upcoming release of MAN OF STEEL strikes that balance.
In the meantime, I'll enjoy superheroes in comics as they fight in a universe that understands and supports their efforts, while at the same time doing my best to use the gifts I've been given to fight the good fight. And if a radioactive spider or dying alien should offer me a nibble or a powerful knickknack, I'll just say no. Probably best for all of us that way.
I'm Stacy Dooks, a writer living in Calgary, Alberta I'm a fan of all things popular culture, literary, and all points in between, and have pretty much committed large chunks of both The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe and DC's Who's Who to memory. Whether or not that's entirely a good or bad thing I leave to the discerning reader.
This blog is an experiment in creating a public forum for my discussions about comics, pop culture, and writing and what they mean to me. Thanks for stopping by!