Luthor

I like that early appearances of Superman's nemesis gave him a single name. It makes him more of an institution than even his later corporation could manage. Luthor.

I write about this in the book a bit, but it's worth putting here: one man I interviewed says that he has come to appreciate Luthor as a man who is trying to kill god. Or was it 'a god'? I'd have to go back to my recordings, or my manuscript, neither of which I'm going to do now.

Anyway, that puts the Superman story firmly into one of the two dominant narratives of our time. The first is simply that this reality, the one we all experience and agree upon, is not the real one. It's not really reality. It's just an illusion, and lying underneath or up above is the reality we all crave or know is there and just out of reach. The second dominant narrative, and it's only become so recently (whereas the first is pretty old) is that of humanity overthrowing gods.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, they're related. Gods experience the ultimate reality that humanity longs for.

I wish Luthor always had to wear that suit. Or at least the flower.

Anyway, Luthor is a bit mercurial. Moreso than Superman. Luthor went from mad scientist to mad capitalist. But he's always ego- and megalo-maniacal. The common thing to say about him is that he's the one bad guy to think he's the hero. That's his definition. I tend to think of him in light of something John Steinbeck wrote: to a monster, everyone else is a monster.

So the thing about Luthor comes down to the final issue of All-Star. He gets Superman's powers, and with them he begins to see the world as Superman sees it.  And it's different than the way we normal human beings see it. He sees the ways in which everything is connected, the ways in which we are connected to each other, and how we are all there is. This follows a realization that 'the fundamental forces are yoked by a thought alone.' The animated version gives a slightly different take; instead of 'thought alone', it's 'consciousness.' Either way, he has transcended what humanity can perceive.

So he gets a glimpse into that level of reality lying beneath the one we can see. He becomes a god. Until Superman punches him in the face. He's apparently unconscious for the final few moments during which he has his power.

Sorry, no Quitely art this time.

Luthor in this story (and in "The Black Ring" by Paul Cornell, which ran through Action Comics while Superman was off on New Krypton) gains god-like power. And he uses it to try to kill Superman. I think this is the perfect distillation of Luthor. He could do so many things, but he lets something stop him. I tend to think that, even were Superman out of the picture--or had never come to earth--he wouldn't have done those things anyway. He would never be great enough to satisfy himself; he would always find a foe to fight and waste his time in doing so.

Purple and green.

So, where Superman is the idea of human perfection and perfectability, Luthor is the idea of human flaw-ed-ness. What's the right word for that? Imperfection's too boring. Flawdidity? Superman is what we hope to become. Luthor is what we fear we will always be.

Superman is change. Luthor is the inertia of the present; the ignorance of the need for change, and the pathetic hope that we don't need it at all.

Or maybe Luthor's change, too, but change in the wrong direction. I don't know. I'm just a folklorist.

Lois Lane

I think Lois Lane's time has come. If any character could carry a comic book, it's her. Her silver age series only interests me as a historical curiosity. Her persistence in trying to prove that Superman is Clark Kent is a literary dead end. It's only partly because she should be able to figure it out after a couple of days. It's really because it's not terribly interesting as a story. So she figures it out. So what?

I think Lois is a compelling character even without Superman in the story. Sure, the attempts to give her a showcase haven't been all that successful, but they also don't seem all that sincere. Jimmy Olsen should get a series of stories in which he trots across the globe, Indiana Jones style, having supernatural adventures. Lois Lane needs the investigative journalist series. I can't be the first person to think this is a good idea (actually, now that I do a google search for a lois lane series, I see all sorts of fan fiction, a proposal for a series of novels, fan campaigns on mtv geek and newsarama, etc.).

Early drawing of Lois by Joe Shuster.

The way I see Lois, her life is a series of constant frustrations. She begins in Action #1 complaining that she never gets the good stories. She is eternally thwarted in her hope to expose Superman's secret identity. She eventually becomes the lauded reporter she's always wanted to be, and she gets the guy--only to lose him in the recent reboot.

There's been a lot of talk recently about marriage in superhero comics, but I don't think it's relevant to Lois. On her own or as a wife, I think she could be a great lead character. She doesn't need to take a back seat to a leading man, even when that man is Superman.

When writers are given a chance to work on Superman, they often feel the need to address certain concerns, elements of the Superman mythos that have been there for decades and are maybe less than logical: Where does he get his morality? What is Clark Kent like? Why is Luthor a bad guy? And, interestingly, why does Superman like Lois so much?

Until the end of time. Pretty much literally, too.

In the last decade, we have had a few different answers to this question. Mark Waid's Birthright  shows a Lois who inspired awe in Clark Kent when they first met. She stands up for people, doesn't take crap from anyone, and is a woman strong enough to make Superman say, "Wow."

Grant Morrison's All-Star Superman has Lois herself pose the question, "Why me, Superman?" Simply asked, simply answered: "Well...I guess there has to be one thing I just can't help, Lois."

I like Waid's better. Morrison's seems more like a dodge than anything.

I haven't found a woman's take on this one, outside of, maybe, the first season of Lois and Clark, developed by Deborah Joy Levine. Though I have seen that show recently, I don't really have much to say about it.
 
I will say that I thought Lois Lane was perhaps the best part of Smallville.

Perry White

So last time I wrote about a Superman supporting player, it was Jimmy Olsen. I wrote about how the heyday of his stories is long over because the way comics stories are constructed now just won't allow it.

Perry White, as far as I can tell, never had a heyday.

He's just this guy. The editor of a major metropolitan newspaper. He's a bit of a cipher. He has been made memorable by performances. Frank Langella lends the character some gravitas in Superman Returns, but it has nothing to do with anything about the character. It's all the actor. That's pretty much how it goes for all the movies and television shows.

There are some lines made memorable by their oddity and by repetition: Great shades of Elvis! Great Caeser's ghost! Don't call me chief!

Strangely, this was the cover for a story about Perry White dealing with the internet.

White occupies a strange place. He's not a father figure. He's not a wizened mentor. He's not Superman's pal. He is, more or less, a character who's often there to advance the plot. In the old days, he gave Clark and Lois and Jimmy assignments. There was a recent issue of Superman (#706) where G. Willow Wilson gave Perry a story about dealing with the ever-encroaching presence of those rapscallion bloggers. It was ok.

Yeah, that's about all I have to say about Perry White.

Jimmy Olsen

I didn't get much of a chance to write about the supporting cast of characters in my book manuscript, so I figure this is the place to do it. First up, Superman's pal.

I like monsters.

I don't have much to say about the history, development, or portrayals of Jimmy. Or James. Or Jim. I do, however, like the bowties. But I only think they work in the comics. Sometimes things that work in drawings seem strange when worn by people on screen.

Jack Larson as Jimmy from the Adventures of Superman television show.

I do love the old Jimmy Olsen comics. That guy was insane. One time, he found an ancient bottle of soda pop, drank it--to prove it wasn't magical like everyone said--and turned into a werewolf. 

A stylish werewolf.

This is what I enjoy most about old comics. There's this sense that absolutely anything could happen. To me, the Jimmy Olsen character and stories of yore demonstrate this moreso than any other I can think of. He could become anything. He could get out of any situation. And he was pals with Superman. These elements haven't been utilized in years, most likely because of the dual pressures of continuity and for everything that happens to be THE MOST IMPORTANT STORY EVER TOLD IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE. The endless possibilities have vanished in a haze of retconning origins, universe-spanning events, and an obsession with the number 52.

Can somebody explain that one to me? Why is it 52? Is it just that there are that many weeks in a year?

Frank Quitely, you never let me down.

 
Anyway, I'm no expert on Jimmy Olsen. He has demonstrated a distinct lack of presence in the Superman comics for the last few years. And I have desire to address the fiasco that was Jimmy on the show Smallville. So my experience with the character has been limited to a few collections of old stuff I've read, which have been great. The problem is, it seems like the Jimmy Olsen of the many transformations is gone forever; killed in Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow? Jimmy Olsen is a victim of the serious-ization of comics. There's probably a better way to phrase that.

So, maybe this isn't the most satisfying examination of Superman's supporting characters, but then again, Jimmy Olsen isn't the best of them anymore. I'll have more to say about the various L.L. of Superman's life, in the coming weeks.