A
rainy weekend left time to munch on bookshelf fodder, both morsels of which had
curious origin stories. My reasons for picking them are less curious. Anthony
Burgess had satisfied my reading urges before. As for the other, my recent review
of academic publications about superhero mythology prompted me once again
toward the comic book shelves to explore one character (strangely absent from
Marvel live-action movies), none of whose comics I had previously read.
Napoleon Symphony: a Novel in Four Movements by Anthony Burgess
After
the success of the modestly budgeted film A
Clockwork Orange based on Anthony Burgess’ novel of the same name, Stanley
Kubrick approached Burgess once again. This time Kubrick had in mind a grand
epic about Napoleon. Kubrick asked him if he could come up with something. Burgess
obliged, providing Kubrick with an idiosyncratic manuscript structured like (to
the extent two very different art forms can be alike) Beethoven’s Eroica. Kubrick decided he couldn’t do
anything with it and dropped the notion of a definitive Napoleon movie. (This
was probably wise: the last serious attempt, Napoleon [1927] written and directed by Abel Gance, is 333 minutes
and gets us only as far as 1797.) Kubrick instead chose to make the less epic
but still interesting 18th century period film Barry Lyndon (1975). Anthony Burgess, meantime, polished up his
manuscript and published it as a novel in 1974.
This
novel is no challenge to Tolstoy and was not intended to be. It is (in Burgess’
words) “a comic novel” though it is not a parody either. The comedy arises,
when it does, in the contrast of the heroic image with the human beneath – as
it arises whenever we examine our idols closely. We don’t get the great battles
and grand events but rather the stage coach rides before them, repasts after
them, evenings in taverns, arguments with colleagues, table talk with lovers, and
private moments. Burgess assumes the reader already has at least a basic knowledge
of his historical career and does little more than indicate (often indirectly) when
and where a scene occurs. We see Napoleon as humanly inconsistent: alternately inspirational,
mawkish, noble, petty, idealistic, unprincipled, self-effacing, and pompous.
The four “movements” into which the book is divided are his rise to fame and
power, his defeat in Russia, the Hundred Days, and his exile at St. Helena.
Burgess, by the way, planned to be a composer before unexpectedly finding
success as a writer. His flair with words is always reason enough to read him.
This
is not a book for someone looking to learn history via a more-or-less accurate
historical novel. Most basic information about the era’s events simply isn’t in
it. But if you wonder what the man could have been like when just being
himself, this gives a plausible picture.
Thumbs
Up. Not my top pick of Burgess (A
Clockwork Orange and Nothing Like the
Sun are more fun), but Thumbs Up nevertheless.
****
****
She-Hulk by
Dan Slott
In
1978 CBS had a hit with its TV show The
Incredible Hulk starring Bill Bixby as Dr. Banner and Lou Ferrigno as his
green alter-ego. It was so popular that executives at Marvel worried that CBS
might develop a gender-reversed spin-off series, much in the way The Bionic Woman was spun off The Six Million Dollar Man. If CBS did
this before Marvel copyrighted and trademarked a female Hulk, CBS rather than
Marvel would own the rights to the character. Marvel tasked Stan Lee with
creating the character, and in February 1980 The Savage She-Hulk appeared on comic book racks.
Jennifer
Walters is a petite and physically frail young attorney. She is also a cousin
to Bruce Banner (Hulk). Bruce has no choice but to infuse her with his own
mutated blood after a run-in with criminals leaves her bleeding to death: there
is no time to wait for a safer source. Jennifer catches her cousin’s condition
and acquires the alter-ego She-Hulk. Unlike her cousin, however, she retains
her full mental faculties when green and has considerable control over her
transitions. She actually prefers her green persona to her vulnerable original
one, sometimes even arguing her court cases as She-Hulk. She isn’t very secret
with her identity. She becomes one of the Avengers. A feature of her 20th
century comics is her awareness of being a comic book character and her
tendency to “break the fourth wall” and talk to the reader.
Comic
book characters get rebooted and made over regularly in order to keep them
current, and She-Hulk is no exception. Accordingly, I opted for the 21st
century tales by Dan Slott in the collection She-Hulk: The Complete Collection. In Slott’s updated version of
She-Hulk the fourth wall is more often bent than broken: Jennifer is one of the
star lawyers at a prestigious firm specializing in (what else?) superhero law,
and the firm’s prime research tool is its comic book collection. Not all the
courtroom drama is in earthly courtrooms. She is whisked away on a matter of
Universal Law in outer space and is herself put on trial by temporal
authorities for interfering with the timeline. Meantime there are more conventional
(by comic book standards) confrontations and interactions with other
superheroes and villains including her archenemy Titania who at one point comes
into possession of an infinity gem. (Marvel fans will know what that means.)
There are good supporting characters in the stories, for example a teen
would-be villain who is the granddaughter of Jen’s boss, and Mallory Book, Jen’s
rival at the firm. There is also Jen’s reliable colleague (non-superhero) admirer
at the firm who, though never making any overtures, awaits the right moment to escape
the “friend zone.” The moment never arrives since Jennifer always has suitors with
whom he can’t hope to compete.
When
I was a child my mom had none of the
snobbish prejudice so common at the time against comic books for kids. She opined
that “reading is reading” and anything that encourages it is a good thing. So,
she craftily brought home reading material likely to appeal to my sister and me
including comic books. She supplemented these with magazines, children’s
literature, and more ambitious material such as Mark Twain and Sir Walter
Scott. The strategy worked. Both Sharon and I became early and lifelong
recreational readers. Comics faded from the mix of my recreational reads by the
time I was in high school with the exception of some counterculture novelties
by Robert Crumb and his ilk. They didn’t really return to my coffee table until
the current century, and then only because adult-oriented comics were a social
phenomenon that couldn’t be ignored by anyone interested in the state of popular
culture.
Adult mainstream comics
were already well established in the US by the 1980s, but I’m often late to pop-culture
parties. I’m not quite sure what to make of them. There is something unsettling
about the power fantasies of superhero comics appealing to adults; they seem to
be something one should grow past. Yet, I readily admit I often enjoy the
comics even if my reason for buying them (at least so I tell myself) is to keep
abreast of pop-culture. Their popularity coincides with an ongoing long-term decline
in sales of traditional literature, both fiction and non-fiction, but I doubt
that is cause-and-effect.
Other modern diversions probably account for the decline – along with current
approaches to formal education that too often make reading seem painful to
students. The decline in the consumption of literature is regrettable, but perhaps
my mom’s perspective is still the right one: reading is reading and something
(even something with pictures and words like “zonk!” and “plink!”) is better
than nothing. If it contains clever artwork and storytelling, better yet.
Thumbs
Up
Smash Mouth - Everyday Superhero
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