In the last essay I said that my answer to Sean Collins' maybe-rhetorical question, "Isn't torture what the bad guys do" came down to a firm "yes and no."
The "no" part applies to the way a particular type of torture-- that is, inquisitorial torture-- is used in a particular way in action-adventure stories. In stories where this type of torture is used as a minor narrative device that has all the drama and suspense of driving one's car over a road-bump, it's morally neutral. The formula "hero needs info so he roughs up a hood to get it" has no more symbolic significance than "hero needs to get somewhere fast so he steals a horse/car/spaceship to get there."
However, it's a different matter when the violence and/or sadism of the inquisitorial torture-scene is ratcheted up to have a distinct effect in itself, apart from simply moving the action of the narrative forward. I observed that comic books in the 1970s began to push harsher forms of violence in the hope of attracting new audiences, with the effect that even "vanilla" heroes like the Flash and Superman occasionally encountered some "rough trade." In American comics this tendency culminated, very near the close of that decade, when Frank Miller became the artist, and then the artist-writer, of DAREDEVIL. This, in turn, led Miller creating his DARK KNIGHT RETURNS mini-series, which showed Miller moving from Daredevil, Man Without Fear, to Batman, Man Without Pity. Sean Collins describes a representative scene of inquisitorial torture from DKR:
"I often think of the scene in The Dark Knight Returns where Batman throws a guy through a window, informs him that he's bleeding out, and the only way Batman will bring him to a hospital is if he coughs up info. Miller's writing is such that even though we're obviously supposed to see Batman as a hero, we are also to understand that he is a dangerous, disturbed man, and that this conduct is not particularly honorable--it's something his demons have driven him to do."
Collins makes one factual mistake here. Batman doesn't throw the "guy" (who in this case is a dangerous felon Batman turned over to the cops earlier) through the window. Bats shows up in the felon's apartment, and the felon is so piss-scared he trips over his own feet, smashes through a window, and cuts his arm on the glass. That point made, some moral interpretations might well find Batman culpable for the injury just on the grounds of home invasion, and of course, before the hood hurts himself, Batman strongly implies that he's willing to torture the guy for a long time if necessary.
In this scene and others like it in DKR, Miller is definitely amping up the pure sadism of the costumed crimefighter. Miller's Batman has wallowed in violence for so long that he does explicitly enjoy the pleasure of crushing and maiming his enemies, though he's a few steps short of being a pure Sadean sadist. Going by the literary examples of Sade, a Sadean lusts to hurt those who are blameless: their innocence is a magnet that draws forth the cruelty of the true sadist. That's why I noted in my earlier essays that the only comics-genre that could be fairly accused of this form of sadism would be that of the "true crime" comic, which put so much emphasis on maniacal criminals killing innocents at random, often for pure pleasure. By comparison, the violence of the superhero is "tit for tat:" a gang of hoods endanger innocent citizens by ripping off a bank, and their violence is the magnet that draws forth Batman's avenging cruelties.
I would say that in many of the works that followed the example of DKR, scenes of inquisitorial torture do indeed become, in Sean Collins' memorable phrase, "icky." To some extent the mroe hardcore version Batman is outside this "ick-factor," not merely because he's driven by his demons but because he exists in a modernized Gothic world where everyone is driven by demons. At its most extreme Batman's world resembles Bronte's WUTHERING HEIGHTS, where innocents are just those who haven't done anything wrong quite yet. But the heroes who don't inhabit a Gothic world, like the rest of the Justice Leaguers, don't get that narrative exculpation.
Many of the British comics-writers, of course, seem to think American fans are a bit "nancy-boyish" for even having such concerns. But that speaks to their general inability to work in any mode save the hyperviolent, albeit sometimes-- though not always-- leavening it by clever bits of snarky humor.
And that's why the answer to Collins' question has to be "yes and no."
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