the Golden Age of Comics

(Once again, this is cross-posted from BootCamp Comics blog.)

I want to share with everyone a quote I read on the comics blogosphere recently. Although I can't remember the exact wording, it goes something like this: "There are two Golden Ages in comics: one was from 1938 to 1950, the other is from the time you were 8 years old to the end of middle school."

Hmm, pretty good, no? It sums up both the thrill of childhood, but also how nostalgia can colour your perception and taste in comics as an adult. Face it, when you were a kid, chances are you didn't care about what happened in comics decades before you were born. If you were like me, you just wanted something brand new! Because if it's new, it's gotta be good, right? Certainly, I was no great connoisseur of storytelling or artwork. But I don't think 10-year-olds are expected to be. It's only when you reach your teens that you start to develop that "us versus them" elitist attitude towards others.

But even though I loved comics, I drifted away from them in my mid-teens. A good part of this had to do with a growing interest in music, but I also found comic books less exciting. To give a rough approximation of the timeline I'm talking about, this would have been in the mid '90s, right after the initial Image explosion. I found the stories of some of the newer books lacking, I didn't like the changes being made to my old favourites, and I was also questioning why every other female character had to have a gravity-defying rack and ninja training. Some might say these were symptomatic of the worst excesses of the comic book industry in the '90s. But I honestly think I would have felt the same, whether it had been 1975 or 1995. I was simply growing up.

The more interesting question is, why did I return to comic books? There are lots of people out there who read comics as children, and never pick up another issue once they've finished adolescence. What drives people like me, and the other creators on this site, to stick with the medium?

For me, I think it's the promise of adventure that a comic book holds. In just 22 pages, a comic book can whisk me on a brightly-coloured journey; taking me from the streets of New York, to the dark side of the moon, with a possible stop in the Negative Zone for good measure. I'll admit, now that I'm pushing 30 I'm not as easily impressed by the umpteenth "secret identity in peril" storyline. But there are lots of fantastic writers and artists working today who can take characters others have long left for dead and breathe new life into them. And when make me say "cool!" out loud while reading one of their books, then they're doing their job right.

It seems this entry has turned into my "why I love comics" routine. But it's also why I enjoy creating comics. Hanging with Ty and the BootCamp gang has shown me that I don't have to sit back and read the adventures other people have written. I just need to unlock the crazy ideas bouncing around in my brain and, with a little help from my friends, those stories can be unleashed on the world for all to share. My own personal Golden Age of comics may have passed, but the BootCamp Age is well underway.

Bring on the bad guys!

(This is cross-posted from the BootCamp Comics blog!)

This week I thought I'd discuss something which all longer-form stories need (along with sex, violence, wickedness and suffering, of course): a quality villain. As much as we enjoy rooting for the good guys, we can only do that if they face a challenge to overcome. Now, this can be done by having your protagonist go up against an obstacle without sentience (think the man vs. nature stories), but I like it best when the hero faces a brilliant mind they need to outfox.

What makes a solid, quality villain? Obviously, the answer will vary depending on your tastes. But I think some kind of ironic juxtaposition to the hero is a good place to start. I've met people who think it's lame that the arch-enemy for someone as powerful as Superman is the powerless Lex Luthor. These people Are. Missing. The. Point. For me, it's much more interesting to watch a guy who only has his wits face off against Superman than it is to see a mindless slugfest with Doomsday. Another example of two polar opposites who share an unhealthy symbiotic relationship are Batman and the Joker.

A personal history with the hero is also good, because it sets up layers of character interaction and motivation. Dr. Doom has never been able to get over his college rivalry with Reed Richards. Magneto was always the X-Men's number one foe, but it wasn't until Chris Claremont filled in his backstory as a close friend of Professor X that things really gelled for the character. (At least, I think it was Claremont who filled in these blanks. Correct me if I'm wrong, fanboys!)

Claremont also introduced another famous aspect of Magneto: Holocaust survivor. This had the potential for coming off as tacky, but it ended up working perfectly in the context of mutant-human politics, and it's something that's been integral to the character ever since. It gave a credible motivation to why he hated humans, and why he would reject Professor X's philosophy. So let's add "pertinent backstory" to our list as well. Mind you, a little backstory can go a long way. I think everyone preferred Darth Vader when he had the simple origin of "ex-Jedi who went over to the Dark Side." Three prequels worth of Anakin's whining and angsting effectively extinguished any sympathy or respect I had for that character.

Then there are villains who are so imposing, so grand in scale they may as well be considered "forces of nature." Guys like Darkseid, Galactus and Thanos. At their best, these kinds of villains make the reader stop and think about how we define evil. Is it something in our nature, or can we rise above our station? Galactus has always been particularly terrifying for me. He's the physical embodiment of the apocalypse; beyond petty matters like our concepts of good and evil. He does what he needs to survive, like an anteater devouring the anthill.

But Galactus leads me to ask another question: are quality villains always doomed to become pale imitations of themselves through repeated use? Galactus is pretty much Exhibit A in the rule of diminishing returns. There are only so many times he can threaten to eat the world, before it gets old. And a lot of fans feel the Batman's inability to stop the Joker's homicidal rampages make him look at best foolish, and at worst, criminally irresponsible.

But perhaps the cruelest fate is watching a formerly mighty villain suffer a humiliating defeat at the hands of a much lesser hero. Some people would point to the time Squirrel Girl defeated Dr. Doom as one of these examples. But those people are fools, because we all know Squirrel Girl rocks.

So what do you think? Who are some of your favourite villains and why? Are there any villains who you loved when they first appeared, but lost their impact due to overexposure and mis-management? (*cough* Venom *cough*)