In spite of (or because of) a young life spent filling my head with stories of bespandexed ubermensch punching one another while shouting declarative sentences about their motivations and what it is they represent, I started to get really tired and not a little skeptical of the superhero as a genre.
Really, really, really tired.
Maybe it’s the stuff coming out, maybe it’s the troubling implications in a lot of the movies, maybe it’s just growing up, but it hasn’t been working for me as well as I’d like it to. A smarter person would probably call that growing up but for all I’m absolutely growing, that sad, wistful, possibly stupid part of me that loves the genre won’t let it die.
So I decided I’d see what the genre had to offer me. I went after comfortable old titles whose beats I knew by heart but had never tried to parse. I went after works by my one-time favourite writer, Grant Morrison, to see if they held up to my new skepticism. I went after works recommended by people whose tastes I trust in the hope of finding something new and good in the genre.
This blog is how it went.