If you haven’t yet read Dave Jones’s essay on Batman in issue 8 of Journey to the Sea, I commend it to your careful attention right away. In that essay, Dave explores the rising importance of the flawed humanity of Batman to that mythos:
In the past twenty-five years, the Batman character has grown into a morally complex amalgam of mythic qualities wherein the evolution of his humanity has become more important than any drive toward transcendence.
Beowulf is a “trascendent” hero. Batman is not. Questions:
- In what ways does the transcendent hero satisfy?
- What is lacking in the transcendent hero that creates the need for the flawed, even morally ambiguous hero?
- What hesitations, if any, do you have about the morally ambiguous hero?
- Where does Harry fall into this spectrum? Is Harry effective as a hero?
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{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
Good article by Dave Jones.
I don’t personally agree with either his premises (that Batman is morally flawed) or conclusion (that victory is impossible). At the end of the day, Batman stops the Joker, and his use of violence during the course of his fight is very controlled: he is aware of the moral implications of violence, does not use violence beyond what is necessary, and does not harm innocents. Compare this to the genre of revenge/action movies, epitomized by Mel Gibson’s The Patriot, where the hero endures unendurable provocation with the express purpose of giving him permission to subsequently murder without remorse. Unless one is willing to accept that all use of violence is morally flawed, Batman, in my opinion, gets a pass.
But on to your question about ways that the transcendant hero is “lacking”.
Again, I question the premise that the transcendant hero does not suffer from flaws or moral ambiguity. I think it’s possible to have both, and for me, it is the very presence of flaws and moral ambiguity that creates the drama when the hero transcends his flaws. Granted that fiction can simplify the dilemmas faced by the vigilante hero to the point of absurdity, as per Lawrence and Jewett. The idea of the hero who uses violence without being changed by it is unrealistic; when you look into the abyss, the abyss looks back. But to me that is a fault of the writer who doesn’t think things through; it’s not an inherent failing of the prototype.
By way of example, I am reminded of Owen Wister’s character, the Virginian, in the book of the same name. The hero participates in the lynching – frontier justice, if you will – of a man, Steve, who was his best friend before he became a cattle thief. He has no doubts about whether he did the right thing – he is following an unwritten but implacable code. However, he still loves his friend, who was a brave man, and a good friend. The resulting innner conflict puts him in a state of anguish which looks almost like a psychotic breakdown. He weathers it – but he never feels good about what he did.
But I will go straight to the bottom line. What is Harry? And is what he is effective as a hero? The unwritten assumption I hear in the questions above is that Harry is a transcendant hero, and as such, not as compelling as a more flawed or morally ambiguous hero might have been.
Well, it’s hard to argue that Harry is flawed or morally ambiguous. He knows what is right, and almost always chooses to do the right thing. The only times he strays from the right are fairly minor – he does not acknowledge that his stellar performance in potions class is due to notes in the margin of his used copy of the text. The nature of the choices he faces are illustrative of the author’s own philosophy. He is not tempted by the chance at eternal life (a la Philosopher’s Stone) or power (a la the Elder Wand). He places his life at risk – and in fact sacrifices his life – in order to help his friends. He would rather set a slave free than be served by one. He does not wish to take life, and does not. The only thing he does which some find totally reprehensible is his use of the cruciatus curse on Amycus Carrow. There we see Harry using unnecessary violence, with not a hint of remorse. I personally don’t mind seeing Amycus get his deserts, but even if it were seen as unacceptable, it is only one dark act in an otherwise good and decent life, so I wouldn’t put too much emphasis on it.
So yes, given a choice between a transcendant character and a flawed and morally ambiguous one, Harry would definitely fall on the transcendant side.
Does that make him less effective as a character?
I have always been attracted to flawed characters. I love Sidney Carton. I am fascinated by Heathcliff. I love Raskolnikov and Meursault. I love Snape. I love Dumbledore, whom I see (Travis would say, choose to see) as morally ambiguous as the best of them. Some of these characters transcend their limitations to do the right thing. Some of them die unrepentant, but with a passion for something which is so deeply human that it resonates even as it repels. Harry is not like any of these characters. And yet I love Harry.
I loved Harry before Deathly Hallows because his perception of his extraordinary world is so grounded and sane. I loved him because he was humble and decent. I loved him because he was an unassuming hero. And most of all I loved him because he was a hero: brave and reckless and determined to vanquish evil without thought to any personal cost I’ve always loved Harry. But in Deathly Hallows I fell in love with him. I have said this before, but I will repeat myself. The image of the young man who walks knowingly to his death, alone except for the dead who walk with him, is one of the most emotionally stirring images I have come across in literature.
So what is it about that image that m0ves me so?
I’d never questioned this before, but I think I’m getting a glimmer of an idea. Harry risks his life countless times during the course of the stories. In fact he does so regularly. But none of these times are the result of deliberate thought. And every other time he puts his life on line, it is with the automatic assumption that he will walk away unscathed, because that is what happens – the hero survives. The walk in the Forest is the only time he thinks about what is about to do – and realizes that he will not walk away from this one. Harry finally becomes aware of his mortality. And decides to throw it away in order to do the right thing one last time.
It is an act of transcendence. And what he is transcending is something most of us would find difficult: he is transcending the universal drive to live, to continue, to not die. He’s not doing it because he wants to, but because he needs to, in order to live up to his own values. And I find that as fascinating – and emotionally satisfying – as watching any morally conflicted hero wrestle with his personal demons.
Again, I question the premise that the transcendant hero does not suffer from flaws or moral ambiguity. I think it’s possible to have both, and for me, it is the very presence of flaws and moral ambiguity that creates the drama when the hero transcends his flaws.
Red Rocker, agreed, and well-said. I think the transcendent hero can have flaws, and is more believable with flaws.
The unwritten assumption I hear in the questions above is that Harry is a transcendant hero, and as such, not as compelling as a more flawed or morally ambiguous hero might have been.
Wasn’t an assumption I was operating on when I wrote the questions, but I see how they can be read that way. Some poor wording choices on my part. In any case, your entire discussion about why Harry is a compelling hero is excellent, and that second to last paragraph, your “glimmer of an idea,” is, I think, right on the mark.
FYI, the transcendent hero can be flawed — most are. But, they tend to overcome their flaws and move beyond them (Superman, or Harry).
Anti-heroes succeed in their quest, but do not fully transcend their flaws. I take Batman in this category — so far. One issue that cut out of the final draft of the Journey to the Sea piece was a rumination on the problem of defining heroes who seem forever stuck in a serialized story with no clear end in sight. But, now that DC has “killed” Batman…
And, of course, tragic heroes succumb to their flaws, leaving their quest unfulfilled, a la Hamlet.
This was the fundamental set of distinctions I started with in the article. Maybe I’ve reduced this too much…?
Superman has flaws?
Do you remember Bill’s meditation on the nature of Superman at the end of KB2?
@Red Rocker, It sounds like you are describing “Batman” here in some absolute sense, but I think Dave’s article discusses Batman as portrayed in three specific works. The different stories about comic book characters (like many figures in mythology) are not consistent, place different emphasis on different parts of the character’s history, and accentuate different character traits. Christopher Nolan’s portrayal of Batman is hardly recognizable as the same character that Adam West represented in the 1960s television show. I have seen an interview with Frank Miller, and he definitely intended to portray Batman as morally flawed. To say that Frank Miller got Batman wrong because Batman isn’t really morally flawed is, I think, to miss Dave’s point.
I don’t think Dave is making a statement like this: “No author has ever or could ever portray Batman defeat Joker because victory is impossible.” Rather, I think he is saying, “Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke ends without Batman defeating Joker, as if Alan Moore is saying that victory is impossible.” Those are two very different claims. As stories get told and retold and achieve the status of “myth” — as I think Batman definitely has — you will inevitably find alternate and competing visions and understandings of the characters. Your reply mentions “the end of the day,” but I don’t think there is a canonical “end of the day” in the Batman mythos to which we can refer.
@Dave, I think the effect that serialization has on a narrative is such a fascinating topic. I see the effect in television shows like Heroes. If they had set out to make a standalone eight-hour movie (or even a trilogy of movies) with a single story arc, then Sylar would have died at the end of the first season and the characters would have “saved the cheerleader, saved the world.” But they were not making a movie; they were making a television series that should be able to go on indefinitely. I think the consequences of serialization are often negative, but they are not always negative — nor do I think they have to be. I haven’t thought to much about it, but I’d love to see some research done in this area.
I’m thinking about all the Batman I’ve watched and I’m really struggling to find any moral ambiguity or character flaws. He even used Bat-shark-repellent instead of killing the shark that was hanging off his leg on the bat-ladder (that it exploded on hitting the water was not Batman’s fault).
http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=X0UJaprpxrk
I think you’re being too selective from the Batman oeuvre to make your point.
As to Red Rocker’s point, willingly choosing death to save others is the ultimate act of heroic transcendence, as death is our greatest enemy. Here in Australia we celebrate ANZAC Day when we commemorate all those who served and fell in war. On many soldiers’ grave stones are the words ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.’ We recognise the love inherent in that kind of sacrifice, and it is compelling. You’re right about Harry’s walk being so captivating because inside us we know what that it would take to do that and wonder if we could be capable of it (and hope that we could).
The greatest love of all is not what Whitney Houston was singing about.
Randy, not only would I not dream of saying that Miller got Batman wrong, I wouldn’t even think of it. Miller reincarnated Batman and to my mind is as much the creator of the character we know as Batman as Bob Kane. More importantly, the Adam West show may have left behind some memories – POW !, but they exist in a different place in my mind than my understanding of Batman.
With that out of the way, I think you’re right: I am describing Batman in an absolute sense. This is the place where the different versions – the DC Batman of the 60s and 70s, Neal Adams’ Batman, Miller’s Batman, Moore’s Batman, the Batman of the pre-Nolan movies, and Nolan’s Batman – come together. In coming together, some inconsistencies are smoothed over, some traits enhanced, others vanished, helped no doubt by the passage of years. In that place, Miller’s Dark Knight segues seamlessly with Christopher Beale, and Moore’s Joker with Ledger.
Perhaps I need to go back to Miller’s Dark Knight Returns and Moore’s The Killing Joke to see if that Batman does take substantial steps into the dark side, whether his use of violence becomes gratuitous, whether he targets innocent and guilty and victims and victimizers alike in his fight against evil.
I know that the use of violence harms the souls of both good men and bad. I know that most people are not to be trusted with power. I know that a final victory against evil is not possible because evil rises anew as long as anger and greed and selfishness exist. I would agree that Miller’s Batman and Moore’s Batman are more morally complex characters than earlier versions, in the sense that they are more aware of the moral implications of using fear and violence. But at the end of the day – there I go again, with absolutes – at the end of the day, even a Batman who carries a ton of existential despair and anomie on his shoulders is a better man than the Joker who kills – for profit, to raise chaos, and just because it’s so much fun. No matter how much wracked by doubt about his use of violence and fear, Batman tries to defend the powerless and the innocent. In other words, he is a hero.
Like I said, it’s been a while since I read Miller, and I never read Moore. But absent some proof that Batman really does step over into the dark side, I think his moral debates are like Hamlet’s: they’re interesting, and they add to the general atmosphere of dark and gloom, but they don’t change the outcome one iota when the time comes when the hero has to roll up his sleeves and serve up some serious damage to the bad guys.
I’d agree, of course, that the fight between good and evil can never end. Not until the apocalypse, anyways, if you believe in such things. Certainly Batman will never see the end of that fight. In that sense, there is no “end of the day”. And as you and others have alluded, this has turned out to be an endless story, moving from medium to medium, and artist to artist. As far as I can tell (acknowledging my lack of knowledge of all things Batman), Batman has stayed mostly on the side of the angels. The day could come, I suppose, when he veers over totally to the dark side, in the manner perhaps of Hal Jordan of the Green Lantern corps, or Dark Phoenix. But I would doubt very much that that avatar would “stick” to the archetypal Batman.
Here’s my thesis: Batman experiences doubts about the use of violence and fear, questions if there can ever be a final victory over evil, feels that his actions are futile and meaningless, but all of this is foreplay to the main act, which is the infliction of damage on the bad guys.