The State Of Comics: Comic Commercialism

In a recent job interview, I found myself asked the following question: "Do you have any heroes from Jewish history?" Growing bored of the blank expression on my face my interviewer rephrased the question as: "Do you have any posters on your wall of people whom you admire?" Thinking of my latest poster acquisition, I truthfully mumbled "the Hulk." "The Incredible Hulk?" I was asked with a look of incredulity. "Yes," I murmured. Surprisingly, I do believe that I got the job.

Comic books have become less and less frowned upon over the years, and increasingly trendy. It seems more than a little probable that this increasing acceptance is due to the genre’s growing reputation as being "not just for kids." Unfortunately, "not just for kids" can frequently be translated into gratuitous violence, cursing, and sexually explicit material. I think that it is probably true that the comic book industry is merely reflecting trends which can be found in the general culture; nevertheless, it pains me that a genre which once guaranteed stories of daring deeds done for the sake of right, or at worst, fame, now brings us tales of anti-heroes who kill as much as the "bad guys." Not that I’m saying that every story needs its heroes and villains to be black and white—some of the best stories in comicdom frequently blur the lines somewhat—but the good guys should at least be somewhat good, and the bad guys at least bad enough to warrant what the "heroes" frequently do to them. And this is all the wind up to my general beef with the current comic book industry, which can be summed up in one word: commercialism.

Having been asked to write an article on comic books, I figured it would be appropriate to actually visit the local comic book store. Now, I don’t want to sound like some crotchety old man—regardless of whether or not that would be an accurate representation of my personality—but the prices are astounding! When I first started buying comics they cost roughly 55 or 65 five cents. Now, granted that that was some years back, but when I was poking around the comic shop, the average price was probably at least a dollar and ninety five cents. Not only that, but there seems to be this increasing need to have every hack story with terrible art printed on virtually laminated paper, which is probably guaranteed to last forever while definitely guaranteed to eat a hole in your wallet. Parenthetically, the real tragedy with this special paper is that it means stories which would be better off with a mercy killing will last for a painfully long time. I’ve even seen the same comic with multiple covers to draw kids into buying the same comic book over and over in order to have a "complete collection." Unfortunately, it’s not enough that the format of the comic books is calculated purely for income, but even the content of the comics is nothing more than hollow stories churned out for big bucks.

There used to be a time when a comic was written because the writer felt the need to write it, and the artist was eager to try out his talents on a story he liked. (Or at least that’s how I’d like to perceive it. I suppose that it’s possible that I’m inventing a mythical golden age of comics, but I’ll fight till my dying breath that this simply isn’t so.) That is when there were comics like Superman (I mean the real Superman, not some guy with weird laser powers) and Batman (before Robin was killed and every one of Batman’s villains was a homicidal lunatic.) Not only that, but I also remember when the X-Men, a comic about mutants fighting for a place in the world was the only "X" title. Now, walking into the local comic shop one sees the X-Men, X-Women, X-Children, X-Fetuses, X-Zygotes, and about three hundred "mutant" titles available, all racking up tremendous income for the great comic book empire. As far as killing characters and then bringing them back to life (Superman, Moon Knight, Phoenix, and the list goes on,) let’s just say that I don’t even want to go there.

I remember some years ago, standing in a comic book convention, and overhearing a comic book artist describe the rampant commercialism, but without a sense of regret. She readily conceded that her work was nothing more than znus (lasciviousness), pandering as it does to the lowest common denominator. Since this is a Yeshiva, and I like to think that I’m something of a Ben Torah, I’ll spare anyone who has bothered to read this far her actual language, but I’ll go so far as to say that it wasn’t "nice." Unfortunately, she’s hardly the only "artist" whose talents have been sold to the highest bidder.

The comic industry seems incapable of viewing women as real people, and for the most part treats them the same way Hollywood treats them. Women are either beauties or inconsequential. The fact that the amount of clothing with which the average heroine is clad is insufficient at best, makes it clear that the industry is just aiming its money vacuum at young teenage boys.

Not only that, but comics which would be called obscene by the average person are, while not ubiquitous, certainly not difficult to find by any means. I even recall that while in the University of Maryland, I was asked by a police officer if a certain store was an "adult book store." I replied that it was just a comic book store, but in retrospect, a good number of their products were, in a very literal sense, pornographic.

Likewise, the extent of violence found in many comics needs no elaboration, and is also a shrewdly calculated attempt to garner ever more money (and it is shrewd.) I can recall being in a comic store last year, which sold nothing but the more lewd and bloody titles, and asking the proprietor if he carried anything more heroic and less horrific. In a miserable sort of a voice he informed me that they simply didn’t sell as well as the more violent titles, and that he hoped that a time would come when they would once again be more popular.

However, one of the reasons I went to the comic store this morning was in the hope of finding something which could possible give this ill concealed tirade a slightly more upbeat feel. Looking around, I tried finding something to read which wasn’t znus or blood and gore. After looking at one publication which was described to me as "cute," and realizing that there was inappropriate material inside, I was then directed to look at Leave it to Chance, by Image Comics (the same people who brought you Spawn.)

Surprisingly, after reading it I felt immensely good. While it was admittedly more expensive than I would have liked, the art was extremely crisp, the story and characters a lot of fun, and there was very little I could complain about. A story about a fourteen year old girl fighting monsters is a cute idea, and it was hard to be aggravated with the comic industry after reading it. Perhaps the guy who sold me that comic was right when he told me—and this was after commiserating with me about what has happened to the genre—that the good stuff is beginning to make a comeback.