Wednesday, December 24, 2008

CHRIST WITH MUSCLES


Writing this on Xmas Eve, it occurs to me-- not the first time-- that for all the limitations of the actual Superman stories (more on which another time), Superman's creators did succeed in imparting to their hero a quasi-religious quality to his role of "secular savior."

Obviously many characters, both in the adventure-genre and elsewhere, had borrowed aspects of Judeo-Christian mythology, whether they were Miltonic rebels or suffering servants. The Lone Ranger, for instance, sports an origin drawn from the archetypal motif of the "slaughter of the innocents," and the Ranger's mission to serve in taming the West was the logical archetypal consequence of his specialness for having survived the carnage. In this dedication to an unending cause of universal justice, Superman is not very different from many of the heroes who preceded him.

What seems to have made the difference, however, was the character's possession of literal super-powers, which prior to Siegel and Schuster had rarely been exploited outside either (1) SF works that did not take place on contemporary Earth, like the Burroughs "Mars" books, or (2) either comic or horrific uses of super-powers, as with H.G. Wells's THE MAN WHO COULD WORK MIRACLES and THE INVISIBLE MAN.

Moreover, the character's supernal nature was justified through an overtly Christian motif in the Superman origin, even if the motif is played as straight sci-fi drama for the space of one panel in ACTION #1-- a single boy-child being sent from "heaven" to Earth by his father. This is not by any means the only myth-motif suggested by either this short origin or later elaborations, but it is certainly the one that may have caused many readers to associate the "Man of Tomorrow" with the "Lamb of God," though such a blasphemous association had to pretty much remain at the subconscious level.

For instance, though I'm going on memory here, 40s SUPERMAN scripter Alvin Scwartz once said that he didn't consider Superman to be an ordinary superhero, but that he was more comparable to the "guardian angels" of Judeo-Christian myth. Now, this statement-- assuming I've remembered it more or less accurately-- is easily contradicted when one looks at the careers of other superheroes of the Golden Age, for most of them did, at one time or another, act as guardian angels to ordinary folks. As the superheroes were dominantly about physically battling danger, most of the help rendered concerned battles on behalf of the defenseless, just as it had with pulp-magazine heroes like Doc Savage. Had Superman never existed, comic books probably still would featured their share of adventure-heroes succoring the weak, and maybe some of them would even have ventured into more melodramatic territory, as Batman did in one early 40s story where he causes an entire city to care for the suffering of one woman (a story whose title I'll look up later, and one probably liberally swiped from Capra's 1933 LADY FOR A DAY).

But even though many of the other costumed characters were no less dedicated than Superman to helping the underdogs, Schwartz's instinct about the "guardian angel" does seem to me to fit Superman better than it does any other hero. It's certainly possible that in thinking so I'm merely influenced by many later accretions to the mythos (like DC's restatement of the Golden Rule: "Do good and you too can be a Superman"-- though I don't remember hearing that phrase when I was growing up).

I think the real reason many fans (and some creators) of the character may see him as a secular Christ-figure is that, unlike many of the exotically-powered superhumans that followed him (Green Lantern, the Flash, and even the Spectre, who had the literal "Power of God"), Superman always seemed like an ordinary fellow despite his having been born with "power from above." That touch of the mundane was also a pronounced aspect of both Judaism and Christianity, and marks one of the dialectical elements that most separates them (as well as that later "Religion of the Book," Islam) from earlier myth-systems, where arguably the mundane is subsumed by the mythic.

Of course, Superman/Christ is not a perfect fit, if for no other reason than that Superman's adventures are a lot less about "turning the other cheek." Nevertheless, the dominant image one gets with Superman is that of a god striding among mortals, a god almost constantly forbearing to strike with full force even against the evil.

I say "almost" because at times even the creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster yielded to the temptation to let their hero be as wildly violent as the Greek Heracles. In ACTION COMICS #25 (1940), the hero is rushed by two men-- one of whom, admittedly, has the power to freeze the Man of Tomorrow via hypnotism-- and Superman throws a plane at them.

Yes, that's right. THROWS A ****ING PLANE AT THEM! (You don't see the bodies get mangled by the impact but the villains aren't mentioned as having survived, either.)

Still, occasional lapses to the contrary, the image of Christ-like forbearance came across with Superman as it did with no other superhero. And that is why he remains a "Christ with muscles"-- as well as "with girlfriends," though admittedly it did apparently take him over forty years to enjoy carnal relations with any of them.

And that will lead (eventually) to the second most important myth-aspect of the SuperMythos: the Super War-of-the-Sexes.

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