Book Review: Supergods - Our World In The Age Of The Superhero by Grant Morrison

Over the 30+ years I've been reading comics, Grant Morrison has written some of my all-time favourites. Animal Man, Doom Patrol, The Invisibles, Arkham Asylum, All Star Superman... books I'd hold up among the best the medium has to offer. He's also written a fair few books I just didn't get, a smattering that disappeared (albeit with sporadic enjoyment) up their own backsides, and some that left me completely cold. Nothing I absolutely hated though, and I've long found the "Grant Morrison" persona to be among the most fascinating and insane of comic book creator caricatures. Where "Stan Lee" is your favourite uncle as a carnival barker and "Alan Moore" is the grumpy (and slightly pervy) old wizard you don't want to get on the wrong side of, "Grant Morrison" is the rock star cum Cuckoo's Nest escapee who's done a few too many mind-altering substances to the point where he actually believes he might be a superhero. A superhero with the power of writing. Isn't that the power we all dreamed of?

Supergods is, ostensibly, Morrison's history of the superhero comic. Unlike many such books, it's highly subjective... and because Morrison's comic book tastes often differ wildly from my own, I often found myself taking his facts-as-opinions with a pinch of salt, or else flat-out disagreeing. There's a strong DC-bias to his writing, partly because these were largely the comics he grew up on, partly because he's had some negative experiences with Marvel management over the years, and partly because DC are currently paying his bills. Plus, he's got more time for the cosmic madness Jack Kirby brought to comics in the 60s than the everyman quality that made me a lifelong True Believer of Stan Lee...

"And yet there was something I didn't like about the Marvel superheroes. Those characters seemed constantly angry and weird, and I found stories of conflict between heroes exhausting. Spider-Man's stressy life was a bit too grown-up, it seemed."

Yet despite our many differences, we both love comics and believe wholeheartedly in the transformative potential of the medium. Once I accepted Morrison's subjective opinions, there was much to enjoy in this larger than life tome. There's a wonderful mix of creative, character and industry back-story alongside personal anecdote, and it's good that Morrison doesn't tread the same old ground as previous historians. He's attempting to build a sociological history of the medium which is sometimes incisive and occasionally insane, but never less than entertaining. Those unfamiliar with the writer's unique world view might not be prepared for his psychedelic 90s adventures in which he creates a comic as a magic spell with the express intention of living a superhero lifestyle... only to go off the deep end when his face is attacked by flesh-eating bacteria and he finds himself face-to-face with 4th dimensional aliens who reveal to him the ancient secrets of our universe. At this point the narrative becomes more "fictional" autobiography than historical tract but as the rest of the comics industry went through its artistic nadir in the 90s, it's a welcome distraction. I still remember an interview with Morrison at the time, when it was suggested that perhaps his other-dimensional experiences might be nothing more than the result of all the mind-altering substances he was taking at that time. "I can see why you might think that," went his reply (paraphrased from memory), "but you'd be seriously mistaken."

There's much to relish here: from the writer's iconoclastic needling of Alan Moore to barbed comments about his estranged pal, Mark Millar. And despite all the Comic Book Books I've read before, I still learnt a few new things (Namor is Roman backwards!) That Supergods becomes less about the medium and more about the messenger is perhaps inevitable. In his own way, Grant Morrison is as unbelievably larger-than-life as Superman, Batman, The X-Men or any of the iconic characters he's tackled over the years. As long as nobody takes his opinionated ramblings as gospel, it's all good... but hopefully, the 4th Dimensional aliens should make sure of this.

I Am A Whinging Student (Hirst, 2012)

As part of my PGCE teacher training, I'm not just teaching... I'm also studying. For the most part, I find I'm enjoying being a student again. It's certainly better than the 9-5 drudge of office work that swallowed the last 20 years of my life. I like going to seminars. I enjoy class discussions and activities (though I can do without some of the "this is rubbish, why are we doing this, how is it relevant?" carping from my fellow students). I like getting feedback from my tutors. I just love the university atmosphere - it's a lot more relaxed than I remember. Then again, the campus in question is separate to the main uni and made up mostly of happily dull adult learners like me. Joy! I'm even enjoying getting involved with extra-curricular activities such as writing interviews for the university's marketing department and becoming class representative to give course feedback at the twice-yearly Student Panels. Nobody else wanted to do it, but I found it fascinating. Certainly more so than writing radio ads.

The only thing I don't like about being a student again is writing essays. It's not that actual essays themselves I have a problem with, it's the way the focus has shifted from the importance of content to the secondary matter (in my eyes, anyway) of referencing. When I did my original degree in the early 90s, you got an essay question, read a few books around the subject, wrote your findings up in your own words, threw in a few quotes, compiled a bibliography... and that was that. Nowadays every sentence, every idea, every bloody word has to be referenced to where you took it from, who else might have had that thought first or used those words in approximately the same order. Otherwise you're up on charges of plagiarism, your work gets referred, and you're made to stand before the Jedi Council to explain your actions before being excommunicated or burnt at the stake. And you know what's to blame for all this...?

The bloody internet, of course.

Way back in the day (yes, I'm a Soprano), when I wrote an essay, I went to the library, took out a few books (the same few books that everyone else was using) and got on with it. Nowadays I have instant access to thousands of books - not to mention all the journal articles and other students' essays that google will point you towards. But wait, there are also programmes which analyse your finished work and pick out key words and phrases to ascertain exactly where you stole every last thought... if you haven't bloody referenced it. Even if you have your own individual opinion on a subject, you better not voice it unless you can find someone else who's said it first. Sometimes I know exactly what I want to write for a specific section but I have to spend hours searching for an appropriate reference to either quote directly or paraphrase so that I can't be falsely accused of plagiarism. You wonder if stamping down on plagiarism might also be putting a stop to individual expression. We never had to worry about this before the bloody internet took over everything.

And don't even start me on which style of referencing I'm supposed to use. Oxford? No, Harvard. Ah, but which branch of Harvard...? Personally, I think I'll opt for the old Stan Lee footnote style. 'Nuff said, effendi!

It's All About Meme

Stolen from Sunday Stealing...

1) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Buy my comic.

2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Today, I feel like saying Stan Lee.

3) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Los Angeles circa 1940, when Raymond Chandler and Philip Marlowe walked those streets.

4) What do you think about most?

Stories.

5) You have the opportunity to spend a romantic night with the music celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

If you'd asked me this when I was 16, I'd have replied Carol Decker. Today though...?

Amanda Palmer. Not because I fancy her, just to piss Neil Gaiman off.

6) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

What doesn't kill you just makes you stronger. Most of the horrible experiences in my past have proved inspirational fodder for stories...

7) What's your strangest talent?

Being able to sleep with headphones on.

8) What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?

Where did you bury the body?

9) Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Of course. Morrissey just doesn't realise it.

10) When is the last time you played the air guitar?

The last time I heard this...

11) Do you have any strange phobias?

Gumpophobia: The Fear of Tom Hanks.

12) What's your religion?

True believer (see question 2).

13) What is your current desktop picture?

14) When you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Walking.

15) What's the last song you listened to?

16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Not at all simple. The obvious answer would be The Smiths... but a more contemporary answer would be The Indelicates.

17) What was the last lie you told?

"No, I don't want to go home."

18) Do you believe in karma?

I'm scared to say no, just in case...

19) What is a saying you say a lot?

"Hey, man, this is a private residence!"

20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

i) Being rubbish at everything.

ii) Fooling people into believing I'm not.

21) Who is your celebrity crush?

Kate Winslet's restraining order has barred me from answering this question.

22) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word: heart.

Tragically, it was 'beat'. I must be a closet Nick Berry fan. I claim Buddy Holly.

23) How do you vent your anger?

With a silent scream.

24) Do you have a collection of anything?

Comics, though it's rapidly dwindling. Music. Books.

25) What is your favorite word?

Coffee. Hmm, coffee...

Kill Shakespeare

You might imagine that on a Venn diagram illustrating people who read comics and people who enjoy Shakespeare, the area of intersection would be slight. You would, of course, be mistaken. After all, many comic fans grew up on the high-falutin' prose of Stan Lee, who modelled the dialogue of characters like Thor on a cod American take-off of the Stratford bard.

Then in the late 80s, a new breed of comic was spawned by Neil Gaiman's Sandman which stole themes and even characters from all kinds of classic literature and used them to a variety of ends, some dazzling, others less so. (Don't start me.) Arguably Sandman created a whole new audience for comics - not just goths, but "serious" readers. Other books soon followed suit, notably Bill Willingham's Fables which brought us dark, adult interpretations of classic fairy tale characters, and recently Mike Carey's The Unwritten, which involves the creator of a fictional Harry Potter-esque hero and the son he may have based that character upon.

All of which brings us to Kill Shakespeare, a comic with such an inspired high concept pitch, you can't believe no one's done it before. The Bard's greatest creations - including Hamlet, Juliet, Othello, Richard III and Lady Macbeth - are pitched against each other in a thrilling quest to locate a legendary wizard with a magic quill. Whosoever possesses that quill will have power over all their domain. The wizard they seek? William Shakespeare.

With such excellent characters at their disposal, writers Anthony Del Col and Conor McCreery are obviously going to have a blast. When Macbeth's witches prophesy that a "shadow king" will be the one to take Shakey down, Richard III hires Iago to befriend the reluctant prince Hamlet and steer him towards his destiny. The resistance, meanwhile, led by Juliet and Othello, believe the godlike Shakespeare will be the one to finally free them from Richard's tyranny... but they too are counting on Hamlet's help. Hamlet, of course, is fiction's greatest ditherer, and also, quite possibly, two odds short of a bodkin, considering all the wild hallucinations he keeps having. Add to this Lady MacBeth, whose passionate seduction of Richard gave me slight cause for concern (since "if he cannot prove a lover, he's determined to prove a villain") until I realised her scheming extends much further than just Richard's bedchamber.

Kill Shakespeare is packed with bloodthirsty battles, dark magic, bawdy comedy, brutal betrayal, lust, sex and murder... just like the very best of the bard. The nod to Tarantino in the title is appropriate, but this is much less self-consciously cool than anything from the Geek King himself. The dialogue, though faithful to its source material and packed with sly references, doesn't try too hard to meet its maker. Andy Belanger's art strikes the perfect balance between cartoon and realism, ably handling detailed, multi-panel pages and chunky tracts of text, while colourist Ian Herring uses the full pallet - something that's often reserved solely for superhero adventures in comic book land, while books of this kind often restrict themselves to pastels or shades. It's a knowing move which demonstrates what all the creators understand well - not only was Stan Lee the 20th Century Will Shakespeare... but Shakespeare was, in his own hyperbolic, crowd-pleasing way, the Stan Lee of his day.

Volume 1 of Kill Shakespeare (collecting the first six issues) is available to buy now, and I'd recommend it to comic fans and literary types alike. If you do exist in the aforementioned Venn intersection, it's an absolute must.

Looking for more comic reviews? Check out Comics On The Ration, the new(ish) blog for comic fans feeding their addiction on a budget from Rob Wells and Paul Rainey, featuring occasional contributions by Steve Miller and myself. (I'll be reviewing Rick Remender's Punisher there shortly.) Add it to your blog list!