Coming from their newsprint origins, comic-book superheroes can now be seen on film, on TV, and have become an integral part of popular culture. Secret Identity Reader: Essays on Sex, Death, and the Superhero is a collaboration between Lee Easton and Richard Harrison. These gentlemen are English professors and pop culture experts at Calgary’s Mount Royal University. Additionally, they are comic book aficionados.
For comic book geeks, the book they’ve crafted is a thoughtful, academic meditation on superheroes. Yet according to Lee, there’s been a real change in academia in the last ten years or maybe even longer. Once departments of English started taking cultural studies much more seriously, people began to understand comic book superheroes are figures which are having a cultural impact. Stories about superheroes don’t just represent a small segment of pop culture.
Part of this may have to do with the success of the movies in the last decade; however, there’s the suspicion many people are "in the closet" about their comic book fandom. Lee and Richard have found by discussing the book, it gives others license to talk about their history with comics.
Throughout the book it becomes obvious that while both Richard Harrison and Lee Easton agree on some facets of the superhero genre, they just as often don’t. Part of this may arise from the different perspectives each has – Richard as a heterosexual man, and Lee as a homosexual man.
Lee’s worldview as a gay man allows him to detail some interesting history around comic books; some of which we’ve heard before (such as Fredric Wertham’s crusade against comics because they corrupted our youth) but repackaged in a homosexual context. This is relevant because we know many gay fans of comic books tend to identify with superheroes at times. Who wouldn’t want to have Batwoman’s fighting skills to protect themself against bullies? Who wouldn’t want to have Superman’s physique? Who wouldn’t want to have The Wasp’s closet of multiple (but fashionable) costumes?
On a realistic level, the LGBTQ community relates to superheroes because of the dual identity they often struggle with (straight at work/gay at home), the fear of their identity being compromised, and the anxiety of revealing yourself to friends and family. "I think the story of coming out is essential to the superhero and to gay identity" Lee states. Essential, and similar, as when a gay man comes out, he usually gets one of three reactions, much like what we’ve seen toward superheroes: A) That’s horrifying! B) We knew all along; or C) You are? That’s wonderful!
Homosexuals and lesbians exist in the closet for part of their life, and then have to deal with the ramifications of opening the closet door: "...having to struggle with who to tell, whether to tell, and what are the ramifications of telling." Especially the last one – will our own Lois Lanes keep their silence, or will they deliberately or accidentally reveal the super secret.
In the real world, many people are coming out of the closet every day with fewer serious consequences. Conversely, Gay and Lesbian superheroes seem to suffer from the "Women in Refrigerator" syndrome. Some quick research on the web lists off some pretty horrible things occurring to GLBTQ characters (impalement, murder, possession, decapitation, torture, disembowelment). Lee thinks while comic book publishers are working hard to overcome it, there still is a strong strand of homophobia in the comic book industry.
What this means, according to Lee, is the superhero is still hard at work teaching us how to be a good, white, straight, masculine male. "How do you help that lesson along? You consciously or unconsciously end up having characters who are self-identified as gay undergoing terrible, terrible ordeals." Popular culture has a way of reinforcing some of societies’ dominant ideas around masculinity.
Lee concedes in some writers’ defence, it’s either not deliberate, or they want to show how horrible homophobia is (along with some of the ramifications of being gay). Unfortunately, while the writers may be trying to shine a light on homophobia, some readers of the comic could take this as reinforcement of negative, homophobic attitudes within themselves.
Furthermore, as Lee discusses in Secret Identity Reader, having the gay hero become a victim fulfils the feminized role which used to belong to the sidekick. In the past when Robin was gruesomely beaten, (because Robin was too weak and Batman was elsewhere) Batman took horrible revenge. Now the victim is a gay superhero, the avenger his teammates (or lover).
While the writers trying to show more GLBTQ superheroes may have good intentions, the only modus operandi seems to be to flip the gay character into the default female victim position. As well, there’s always something at work to contain the gay characters (i.e. Apollo and Midnighter get married and adopt Jenny Quantum, reinforcing heteronomative ideas).
"The trick here is to have a range of different kinds of gay and lesbian characters so you don’t have one or two characters having to bear the burden of representing everyone (in the gay community)" Lee says. You can then have GLBTQ characters experiencing tragedy, or having relatively good lives; if you have such a range then sexuality just becomes one aspect of a superhero.
Lee’s experience has been hit and miss with gay characters. "I really really liked when they first brought Northstar out. I was really happy about that." He’s had some passing knowledge of gay characters in Young Avengers (Hulkling and Wiccan), yet other characters such as Batwoman he hasn’t followed enough to make a determination.
He did read the "gay version" of the Rawhide Kid: "I hated it. I despised it. That was awful on all levels. I don’t know what they were thinking when they tried that." He had high hopes for it; unfortunately it was a Will and Grace type of camp which didn’t work on the page. Since then, according to the All New Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe A-Z, his character has been "de-gayed"; Marvel’s explanation for the swishy version was that he was just pretending to be gay "to confuse others."
However, while we are seeing more gay comic book characters, it’s doubtful we’ll ever see a superhero movie with the main character being gay. Lee told me the studios have committed a huge amount of money to these things and the movies seem to be on a bit of a knife-edge as to whether they’ll succeed or bomb. The best way to make money? Appeal to a core demographic: "There is a negligible chance of a gay superhero headlining a movie because the 18 to 35, 40 year old guys who go to these movies won’t go to watch another guy kiss a guy. Not happening."
The best hope for gay or lesbian superheroes might be in television – especially cable. Dramas like Brothers and Sisters or Six Feet Under have shown fully realized gay characters and their relationships can work as part of a show. "That’s where gayness is woven into but doesn’t become the overriding feature of the story" Lee says. It’s possible a gay character could arise from the media of television and just happen to be a superhero. Alternately, writers from this media could find work in comic books (much like Joss Whedon has) and create more rounded GLBTQ superheroes.
The range and evolution of comic books and their characters in the past decade has also meant on the consumption side there are more fangirls who are purchasing comics. Lee agrees: "I sense there’s been a bit of a shift in terms of the demographics on comics."
John Tinkess of Another Dimension Comics here in Calgary told me "...female readership has increased so much over the last ten years...back in the 1980’s, it seemed like very few women read comics and those that did gravitated to either Elfquest or the X-men but today, female comic readers are commonplace and their tastes run the gamut as much as men."
Part of this may be because of the evolution of strong female characters in science fiction, horror and fantasy. Characters like Buffy, Xena, Dana Scully from The X-Files, and the women of Battlestar Galactica. Usually within a group of female fans there’s a strong lesbian contingent, who, like their gay brethren, identify with superheroines.
The problem with comic books that is while they are branching out into animated series on television and movies, old comic book fanboys like Lee and myself aren’t reading the books anymore. It has become a product. A product with multiple crises on multiple Earths or Dark/Secret/Young Avengers that becomes difficult to keep track of after a while. Both Lee and I reminisced fondly about stories in comic books from the Bronze Age of comics (1970-1985ish). The stories and characters seemed larger than life (one might say superhuman) while in the Modern Age, the quality is hit and miss, with the only epic stories happening in movies.
Perhaps it might be a sign that as adults we’ve put away the things of our childhood. Yet given the excitement we express when a new idea/portrayal of superheroes arises, I think it’s the hope one day we will recapture the thrill of imagining ourselves as Batman, as Superman, as Wonder Woman, or as She-Hulk; albeit with a gay sensibility. And lots and lots of wardrobe changes.