The Hagiology of Superman

Zack Snyder's Man of Steel is the second attempt at a new direction for the Superman franchise in less than a decade. For many superhero properties, a reboot means a darker, grittier take on the character. Snyder (and producer Christopher Nolan) indulge a bit of that angst-driven sentiment here, but to me the most intriguing change in direction for this iteration of Superman isn't really a change, but an expansion within the continuity of his main source tradition.

Soon after the character's debut, commentators (including Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels) noted Superman's resemblance to Moses. Both Israel's founding father and the Last Son of Krypton escaped genocidal calamities as infants, were raised in secret by foster parents, altered the natural courses of major bodies of water, and served as the exemplars and protectors of specific nations' creeds. Both characters also have Hebrew names (Kal-El: "Swift God", and Mosheh, derived from the Egyptian: "Son").

Several items in the movie's subtext hint that Snyder and Nolan have graduated their Superman from prophetic to messianic status. Without spoiling any major plot points or characterizations, here are some of the Christological elements I noticed on my first viewing:

• Jonathan Kent has a deep sense of Clark's special role and strives to foster his potential. He also expresses awareness that his son has another father who sent him to earth for a reason. (One could build an entire post on the Pa Kent/St. Joseph parallels alone).
• As seen in the trailers, Clark travels with a group of fishermen at one point.
• Clark is prominently framed against a stained glass window depicting the Agony in the Garden at a dramatically resonant moment.
• Superman gives his age as 33 (in the original Superman: The Man of Steel graphic novel, he is 29. This can only be a deliberate parallel).
• At least one scene with an implied crucifixion motif.
• Kal-El is referred to as a god and the savior of humanity.
• A woman is the sole witness to the revelation of Clark's superhuman nature, and none of her associates believe her until they see for themselves.

I could go on, but I think the observations above make a strong case that the filmmakers intended to portray Superman as a Christ character. From a theological standpoint, the character's expansion from prophet to messiah is an internally consistent and frankly ingenious reboot approach. It raises the story's stakes and magnifies the character's significance by way of the natural progression of his underlying mythos. Far from spurning Superman's Mosaic roots, Snyder and Nolan have followed that theme to its logical conclusion.

Saving the Hero

The last few years have seen a spate of super hero films, culminating in this summer's glut of spandex-clad protagonists. But for every Dark Knight there seem to be many more Green Lanterns. For every Iron Man, there are a score of X-Men 3s. For every Captain America, there's a Captain America.

Despite the rare critical and commercial hits that continue to justify the comic book movie genre, superheroes are faring even worse on their home turf.

My associates and I were pondering this strange state of affairs, and we resolved to try our hand at writing a superhero story that avoids the pitfalls and cliches that got the comics industry stuck in its current rut.

Our first step has been to compile a list of source material intended to exemplify what comics have done right in recent decades. For inspiration, we chose seminal graphic novels and miniseries that rescued superheroes from past periods of malaise. Our hope is that what these magna opera did for Batman, Superman, adult trade, and the industry in general can be done again in these turbulent times.

Yet the question still remains. How did superheroes' ray-deflecting wristbands lose their lustre? What tarnished their reputation? Comments regarding how the superhero genre can regain its appeal are most certainly welcome.

Art and Additional Materials

Visual art seems to enjoy pride of first place among the aesthetic fields. One of the primary reasons for its universal appeal is probably its immediacy. Anyone can get the gist of a drawing or painting after even a cursory glimpse, but extracting the meat of a literary piece takes significantly more time and effort. Artists, therefore, seem to achieve recognition more easily than writers.

If you want a practical example, try finding a comic book publisher who's accepting unsolicited script submissions. Even bigger studios periodically have open calls for new artists, but unless a story is accompanied by finished pencils at least, good luck getting it in the door.

An interesting observation I made during my unsuccessful bid to launch a web comic is that, while many authors (myself included) openly admit that they can barely manage artwork equaling grade school notebook sketches, every artist I've ever spoken to judges his writing to be on par with his art.

Having been rebuffed by pencilers who already had stories to go along with their artwork, and thus no need for me, I resolved to abandon comics for the time being in order to focus on novels--an medium dedicated entirely to the written word...or so I thought, until I came upon a common clause included in many standard book contracts imposing upon the author the obligation of providing additional materials, including original art.

Since, as I stated, I can't draw, the obvious answer was to include no artwork in my book, other than the front and back cover, which are the publisher's problem. However, I soon discovered that the standard contract specifies that the inclusion of additional artwork is at the publisher's sole discretion. If I do get a book deal, the publisher can demand interior art. Now, publishers know very well that there's every chance a particular author can't draw or paint as well as he can write (a rare combination despite what many artists seem to think), so they add a clause stipulating that the author will be forced to pay for the services of a third-party artist (or even the publisher's own art department).

Usually the publisher will just go ahead and farm out the production of additional materials for the novel, including permissions and indexes (or even maps made by actual cartographers) in addition to original art. Then they'll charge a debit to the author's account which, like the advance, is recoupable via royalties.

Long story short, if you're an author with a book deal on the horizon, make sure to renegotiate these generally unfavorable provisions of most standard literary contracts.