Memento Mori Theatricks

The vigilante believes that corruption pervades society, and by extension, the very institutions intended to protect us from evil. Thus, the vigilante believes that only independent agents and unorthodox methods are capable of solving the world’s ills. This insight often manifests as a revelation triggered by trauma. It is at this point that the vigilante becomes proactive and steps outside of normal society by creating a new identity.

For the vigilante, the ends justify the means. The earliest vigilantes (~1200: Robin Hood, 1905: The Scarlet Pimpernel) are wealthy gentlemen who adopt colorful dual personalities in order to defeat tyranny. These costumed personas serve as a rallying point for like-minded resisters. The vigilante uses a specific “calling card” for easy recognition, such as a simple arrow or a picture of a flower.

In the pulp era of the mystery men, the dual identity transforms into a secret identity (1919: Zorro, 1931: The Shadow, 1933: The Spider, 1936: Green Hornet). Masks are introduced to disguise the vigilante from his enemies. Often, a cape remains as a reminder of the character’s aristocratic roots. Emphasizing his separation from civilization, the vigilante now prefers to operate at night and establishes a hidden base of operations.

Quintessential vigilantes (1939: Batman, 1940: The Spirit, 1941; Green Arrow) appear soon thereafter in the Golden Age of comics. For example, Bruce Wayne possesses all of the tropes of the archetype: aristocratic background (millionaire), colorful persona (“The Batman”), disguise (costume with cape and mask), a calling card (batarangs and other chiropteran symbology) and a subterranean hideout (the Batcave).

In the Silver Age, although writers experiment with working class vigilantes (1964: Daredevil, 1967: The Question), the vigilante is largely assimilated into the generic superhero archetype.

Heading into the Bronze Age, the vigilante evolves into its most popular form: the anti-hero with an alter ego that is either disregarded (1974: The Punisher) or fractured (1975: Moon Knight). Frank Castle has no need to be anyone other than simply The Punisher. Moon Knight sees himself as the avatar of an Egyptian god; his multiple personalities are unintended consequences of his crusade.

The deconstruction of the archetype culminates with Alan Moore’s anarchist revolutionary (1982: V for Vendetta), a Batman persona that tears down the Bruce Wayne façade (1986: The Dark Knight Returns) and the morally absolute Rorschach (1986: Watchmen). This extreme interpretation of the vigilante has flourished for almost twenty years.

The vampire consumes the energy of others to meet its own needs, which can be physical, mental or spiritual. A common theme in literature is immortality and its price. Vampires go on forever as long as they are willing to drain energy from the living. Thematically, this is an exaggeration of our basic need to eat animals and plants to stay alive.

Vampires also reverse the notion that humans are at the top of the food chain and the evolutionary ladder: vampires are stronger, faster and more alluring than normal humans. Sometimes the vampire manifests as a parasite who offers its host a symbiotic relationship: life force for enhanced abilities.

Despite its origins in world folklore (blood-sucking ghouls truly abound), the vampire first acquires literary resonance in the nineteenth century with the gothic writers (1819: Lord Ruthven, 1845: Varney, 1897: Dracula). Vampires represent the dark side of an imagined romantic past, counterbalancing the rationality of the enlightenment and scientific progress. Vampires become metaphors for sexual anxiety, including repressed desire and the fear of venereal diseases. The vampire combines the qualities of the antagonist and tragic hero, transforming the villain into a sympathetic monster.

During the Golden Age, vampires were relegated to infrequent appearances in horror comics. One notable exception (1939: The Monk), a red-robed Batman adversary. The Comics Code Authority explicitly banned vampires in 1954, thus depriving the Silver Age of supernatural subject matter for its innovative stories. However, two vampires in disguise made their debut: a power-stealing criminal who resented his inability to touch his family (1966: Parasite) and a cosmic eater of worlds (1966: Galactus).

Marvel challenged the code with non-traditional vampires, an energy drainer who becomes a pterodactyl (1969: Sauron) and a modern blood-sucker with a scientific origin (1971: Morbius). The CCA amended its code in 1971 to allow supernatural vampires that were consistent with established literature. From the public domain Transylvanian count in Tomb of Dracula (1972: Dracula) to a British aristocrat turned Nazi (1976: Baron Blood), vampires were reestablished as comic book villains.

The tragic aspects of vampires resurfaced at the end of the Bronze Age. There was now a hint of redemption and repentance to have the reader empathize with the monstrous cravings that vampires endure. Marvel’s sympathetic female analog to DC’s Parasite (1981: Rogue) lacks self-confidence, prompting her to absorb other personalities for answers.

Other vampires justify their continued existence by resisting the urge to feed on humans, finding substitute nourishment in the form of animal blood (1981: I…Vampire) or partners willing to be donors (1982: Cloak).

Vampires become predictably extreme in the Modern Age: a parasitic costume that grants superhuman powers at a price (1988: Venom) and an alien vampire warlord with no redeeming qualities (1993: Rune).

Writers often place a character in an unfamiliar environment (a.k.a. “fish out of water”), which allows the writer to describe the story’s setting as if it were being witnessed for the first time. In essence, the wide-eyed character acts as a surrogate for the reader. The outsider is a variant of this literary trick: introduce a being from another time or place into our society in order to judge its merits and flaws. While presented as an objective analysis, the outsider’s own biases color his perception of humanity. As a vehicle of social commentary, the outsider either becomes a champion or a critic of civilization. In the most extreme cases, they are messiahs or destroyers.

Outsiders first appear in myths and legends as gods walking among us (~2700 BCE: Gilgamesh, ~1200 BCE: Herakles), and sometimes in disguise (~700: Odin). Mark Twain used a mysterious stranger (1910: No. 44) to expose the immorality of organized religion. Edgar Rice Burroughs’ noble savage (1912: Tarzan) finds little of value in the civilized world and returns to Africa. In the Golden Age, an alien orphan (1938: Superman) embraces the ideals of his adopted planet even after learning more about his true heritage. An impulsive Atlantean (1939: Sub-Mariner) rejects the surface world, only entering a temporary alliance to defeat the threat of Nazi Germany. A warrior princess (1941: Wonder Woman) leaves paradise to explore the world of men, but unlike Tarzan, decides to remain as a champion.

The outsider turns up in the Silver Age as minor variations. A telepathic, phasing shape-shifter (1955: Martian Manhunter) disguises himself as a police detective to gain insight on the human condition. Sent to Earth for rehabilitation, a Norse god (1962: Thor) learns the meaning of honor and humility as he experiences life as a disabled doctor. Given the chance to save his home world from destruction, an astronomer becomes a harbinger of death (1966: Silver Surfer) and then an exile. Initially amoral, the Silver Surfer reclaims his own humanity by rekindling deeply-buried emotions.

In the Modern Age, writers have explored the outsider from unique angles. A freak accident costs a nuclear physicist his humanity (1986: Doctor Manhattan) in a reversal of the  outsider’s typical character development. An opportunistic time traveler (1986: Booster Gold) uses future technology and knowledge to artificially create a new persona while the “Main Man,” a maniacal space biker called Lobo, commits planetary genocide and in doing so becomes the last of his race (1990: Lobo – retcon of the original 1983 character).

The first comic book outsider (Superman) is also re-imagined in various guises: a stressed savior from the future (1995: Samaritan) faces the consuming realities of always having to save the world. Reared by the government to be weapon, an extraterrestrial (2003: Hyperion – retcon of original 1969 character) rebels after realizing what was concealed from him.

The ghost represents our fear of death, but more accurately our anxiety over unfinished business. Because ghosts refuse to accept death, they are able to pursue revenge or work toward a final task. The tragedy of ghosts is that they often repeat the same mistakes, failing to learn why they died in the first place.

Most cultures believe in ghosts and the concepts of haunting, resurrection and possession. However, when apparitions appear in myth or literature, their primary role has been to give guidance to the living since death brings a different perspective on mortality. The shade of Achilles in The Odyssey, Hamlet’s father and Jacob Marley in A Christmas Carol provide crucial information to the protagonists.

In the Pulp Era and Golden Age, several crime fighters adopt ghostly imagery to add mystery to their personas (1933: Phantom Detective; 1936: Phantom; 1949: Ghost Rider), but two “resurrected” characters dispense justice from beyond a presumed grave: a Texas lawman (1933: Lone Ranger) and a big city detective (1940: The Spirit), both cut down in the line of duty.

The first true-ghost protagonist was an avenging angel dedicated to eliminating evil from the world (1940: Spectre). The reanimated corpse of a businessman (1944: Solomon Grundy) with no memory turns to crime to regain his perceived loss of wealth. An infamous highwayman (1947: Gentleman Ghost) doomed to remain on earth until his immortal foes are vanquished. Due to the Comics Code Authority ban on supernatural themes, ghosts appear through the lens of science fiction. Superman faces criminals (1961: Jax-Ur and General Zod) from the Kryptonian past imprisoned in the aptly named Phantom Zone.

The late Silver Age debut of the ghost of a murdered trapeze artist (1967: Deadman) who faces drug smugglers and his own killer directly challenged the Comics Code Authority. With the relaxation of the code in the Bronze Age, supernatural ghosts returned: a demon who possesses a motorcycle stuntman (1972: Ghost Rider), a mummified Egyptian prince (1973: N’Kantu) and a mindless revenant controlled by a mystic amulet  (1973: Zombie).  The Ghost Rider character remains very popular and serves as the template for the anti-heroes of the Modern Age: an indestructible force (1989: The Crow) suffering from guilt and melancholy and a servant of hell (1992: Spawn) with extensive magical powers. As undead creatures, they question the morality of their actions as they cling to the last vestiges of their humanity.

The Freak challenges our preconceived definition of normalcy.  When freaks are feared and believed dangerous, the community ostracizes them. Human society lacks the tolerance to integrate the extraordinary into its midst. Monstrous births, like comets and eclipses, presage dire events. Madmen spout unnatural opinions and behave irrationally. Curiosity only overcomes fright when freaks can be viewed in relative safety, such as inmates in an asylum, as preserved specimens in curiosity cabinets or as exhibits in carnival sideshows. Conversely, when freaks are feared and deemed useful, the people revere them as prophets and miracle-workers. The ancients consulted these seers, such as the Sibyl of Cumae and the Pythia of Delphi; deciphering their mysterious utterances revealed not only the future, but divine wisdom. In the Odyssey, Menelaus captures and forces the shape-shifting sea god (~700 BCE: Proteus) to reveal the fate of his brother Agamemnon. Most religions require purification and isolation for its rituals, transforming the participants to transform themselves into the “other” in order to separate the sacred from the profane.

In the Pulp and Golden Ages, this metamorphosis can sever the ties between the past and present. Traumatized by the tragic murder of his family, an adventurer’s (1939: Avenger) face and hair lose all color and feeling, paralyzed and lifeless. He learns to mold his corpse-like visage to impersonate anyone in his quest for vengeance. With the help of a kindly monk, a petty thief (1941: Plastic Man) reforms his way of life after being doused with acid, transforming his body into living rubber.

The writers of the Silver Age extend the freak metaphor to represent communists or mistreated minority groups, exploring the witch hunt phenomenon and its impact on society. Aliens (1962: Skrulls) bent on conquering the Earth, use their innate shapechanging ability to infiltrate the human populace. Talented psychics (1963: Jean Grey and Professor X) found a special school to place young mutants firmly on the right path in opposition to a rival philosophy (1964: Brotherhood of Evil Mutants) that espouses domination of mankind. Over the years, Marvel’s mutants have served as proxies for African-Americans, immigrants and homosexuals, based on writers’ specific themes of persecution and prejudice.

Not content with operating in the fringes or hiding in the shadows, freaks embrace active roles in the Modern Age. A red-skinned demon (1993: Hellboy) rejects his destiny to enslave humanity and investigates supernatural events for the American government. Possessing incredible telekinetic and telepathic powers, a time-traveling soldier (1990: Cable) assumes aggressive leadership of the New Mutants.

The capacity to ignore animal instinct (i.e. the beast within) when making decisions is a mark of sentience. With free will comes accountability, but not responsibility. An individual picking up a gun does not automatically assume the duties of a police officer. A person’s actions carry consequences, but these choices are not predestined by an outside moral or ethical code. As an allegorical figure, the Elemental represents our potential to use and abuse power. Power becomes either a gift or a curse depending on the wielder’s perception.

The origins of the elemental lie in animism. The idea that everything in nature has a spirit occurs in many of the world’s belief systems. Ancient druids, tribal shamans and modern spiritualists mediate between the natural and supernatural realms. Whether called kami, numina or totems, spirits tend to be revered in anthropomorphic forms rather than as theoretical concepts. Similarly, allegorical figures, such as those in Pilgrim’ Progress or Lord of the Flies are the personification of the abstract. The alchemist Paracelsus applied the names of  folk creatures (gnome, salamander, sylph, undine) to describe the pure spirits of the four classical elements (earth, fire, air, water).

The most popular hero of Golden Age was a potent elemental, a magical champion (1939: Captain Marvel) with the superhuman powers of six mythological figures. In the Silver Age, three elementals decide to combat injustice, whereas many of their adversaries, who also happen to be elementals, pursue a criminal career. Rogues harness elemental forces (1957: Captain Cold; 1959: Mirror Master and Weather Wizard; 1963: Heat Wave) to slow down a scarlet speedster (1956: Flash – revision of 1940 character). An interstellar peacekeeper (1959: Green Lantern – revision of 1940 character) converts raw willpower into green energy, while his foes counter with yellow anti-matter (1961: Sinestro), magnetic fields (1962: Doctor Polaris) and draining anti-energy (1964: Black Hand). A troubled teenager (1962: Spider-Man) with amazing abilities faces off against a shape-shifting earth elemental (1963: Sandman) and a sadistic lightning elemental (1964: Electro).

In comics, an elemental’s characterization often mirrors the traits of that power. Ice elementals are cruel or pitiless; cat elementals manifest as mysterious loners or nimble acrobats. A Silver Age quartet (1961: Fantastic Four) exhibit the characteristics of the four classic elements: Mr. Fantastic’s elastic body stretches almost as far as his fluid intellect, Invisible Girl’s transparent force fields bend the physics of space and light; The Human Torch’s affinity for fire complements his hotheadedness and The Thing’s stony exterior reflects his rock-solid human soul.

African-American characters (1971: John Stewart; 1975: Storm; 1977: Black Lightning; 1981: Vixen) avoid racial and elemental stereotypes in the talented writing of the Bronze Age. Elementals in the Modern Age ascend into near godhood. A monster of the Louisiana bayous (1984: Swamp Thing – revision of 1971 character) discovers his true role as the defender of the Green, the spiritual community of plant elementals. The sandman of folklore (1988: Dream) escapes from imprisonment to reestablish his mastery over the Dreaming, the realm of reveries and nightmares.

The Construct symbolizes our desire to know the ultimate reason for existence. Essentially, the construct is the personification of these abstract questions. Who created me and for what purpose? What does it mean to be human? How can I become fully human? Through the construct, we also explore free will versus determinism. Must I serve my creator and his intended purpose? Or am I an independent agent in the cosmos?

The earliest constructs are created to satisfy a specific need. Hephaestus, Greek god of the forge, furnished King Minos a giant bronze automaton (~1200 BC: Talos) to defend the island of Crete. The sculptor Pygmalion carves an ivory statue (~250 BC: Galatea) so life-like that it ensnares his heart; Aphrodite transforms the figure into flesh so that Pygmalion may have his ideal wife. According to Talmudic writings, rabbis fashioned silent men of clay (~200: Golem) to act as servants and protectors. An obsessed scientist uses alchemy to create a synthetic man (1818: Frankenstein’s Monster) to conquer death.

Constructs (primarily robots) are simple adversaries in the Pulp Era and the Golden Age. They represent science gone bad, the evil weapons of misguided mad scientists. In the Silver Age, the construct acquires additional dimensions in line with its literary roots. As sentient beings independent of their creators, constructs adapt their primary programming to new stimuli, evolve distinct personalities and take control of their own destinies. An imperfect doppelganger (1958: Bizarro) of Superman cannot adjust to life on Earth, eventually relocating to the fun-house mirror planet of Htrae. An advanced android (1960: Amazo) can duplicate any super powers he encounters, but struggles to understand the human emotions that he has absorbed. Initially designed as an assistant for Dr. Henry Pym, an armored robot (1968: Ultron) turns against its creator after self-programming a malevolent intellect. Ironically, Ultron’s own creation (1968: Vision) rebels and joins the Avengers.

Not content with their creator’s original vision, the constructs of the Bronze Age and Modern Age reinterpret their core directives to establish their own answer to the meaning of life and death. Created by the Guardians of the Galaxy to police the cosmos, an army of androids (1975: Manhunters) decides that punishment supersedes justice and swears revenge against their makers. In a revision of a classic Silver Age villain, a machine intelligence (1983: Braniac) concludes that Superman is the “Master Programmer” (i.e. God) and the principal obstacle to dominating the universe. The ultimate Kryptonian killing machine (1992: Doomsday), bred by accelerated artificial selection, also desires to destroy the Man of Steel to fulfill his purpose. A sentient surveillance satellite and its cyborg warriors (2005: Brother Eye and OMACs) launch an attack to eradicate what is perceived as the greatest threat to the Earth – all beings with super powers.

Concepts in Darkpages are metaphors for the mysteries of human existence. The beast represents the dual nature of man: an animal trapped inside a cage of human civilization and its ethical codes. The conflict for the beast is the struggle between instinct and reason. The beast both admires and fears the destructive potential of the Id unfettered by the restraints of morality. Thus, the beast is apprehensive when forming close bonds, concerned that the hidden monster will bring injury or death. Throughout history, religious and philosophical doctrines have provided guidance on how to tame our impulses, by turning the other cheek or rejecting worldly pleasures. But in the end, the beast shows us that some cannot truly control or repress their savage nature. The mask of civility can only hold back the face of evil for so long.

In folklore, the beast often appears as a lycanthrope – a man who transforms into a fierce creature – or as a hybrid possessing both human and animal characteristics. Werewolves roamed the countryside, attacked

wayward travelers and then returned to unassuming lives. Centaurs and maenads, rational beings when sober, engaged in drunken orgies of sex and violence. Transformation into a beast could be symbolic too:

Norsemen donned animal pelts to trigger a berserker rage during combat. Robert Louis Stevenson introduced a man of breeding who quaffs a potion to free himself from morality (1886: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). At the end of this allegory of good and evil, the killer Hyde eventually subsumes the gentler Jekyll. In the Golden Age, a disfigured district attorney obsessed with duality turns to crime (1942: Two-Face). To the beast, criminal behavior is justified since it is society that neuters man’s natural virility.

The beast flourishes in the Silver Age, especially the motif of the quiet, rational scientist who becomes a monster: a brute fueled by rage (1962: Hulk), a rampaging reptilian (1963: Lizard) and a bat-like creature (1970: Man-Bat). These men of science may have possessed noble goals, but their experiments backfired horribly. On a certain level, the beast is an offshoot of the mad scientist, reminding us of the consequences of “playing God” or conducting unorthodox scientific research.

The Bronze Age ushers in a paradigm change. No longer a pure good/evil dichotomy, both the human and animal personalities of the beast follow a grayer moral code. Suffering from a hereditary curse, a werewolf (1971: Werewolf by Night) stalks and kills the wicked. A knight who betrayed Camelot is bound to a fiend from hell (1972: Demon). A brooding warrior (1974: Wolverine) with a shadowy past constantly wrestles with his bloodlust.

The beast devolves into an amoral killing machine in the Modern Age. The prehistoric urges of a reptilian brain dictate the actions of a voracious inhuman monster (1983: Killer Croc). Genetically engineered and conditioned by “The System”, an assassin (1992: Azrael) fails to rein in his dark side and eventually loses his sanity. A similar secret experiment develops a female clone (2003: X-23) of Wolverine in order to create an unstoppable biological weapon.

Like ancient mystics and medieval alchemists, the adept seeks immortality through insight and skill. On the journey to achieve this ultimate knowledge, adepts follow the footsteps of Buddha, Socrates, Jesus and Mohammed. The path to enlightenment has three milestones. First, know thyself: a true adept recognizes his strengths and weaknesses, for it is our flaws that reveal our true nature. Second, master thyself: potential must transform into practice. Third, embrace death: physical existence is merely a shadow – immortality is gained by passing on a legacy to future generations.

The earliest adepts are practioners of magic and possessors of secret knowledge. Despite their immense power, these witches (~700 BCE: Circe and Medea) and magi (~1136: Merlin) do not take center stage, opting to advise and aid heroes in their epic quests. In the Renaissance, writers create dramatic figures from the allure of alchemy and specter of witchcraft. The Devil grants a doctor (~1500: Faust) divine knowledge in exchange for his eternal soul; a cautionary tale of the dangers inherent in pursuing things man was not meant to know. An exiled duke (~1610: Prospero) rules an island kingdom, but eventually decides to abandons magic to return to his earthly domain. The Victorian Age gives birth to a crime fighter (1887: Sherlock Holmes) who possesses no true supernatural ability, but rather superhuman intelligence, perception and martial prowess. This archetype returns in the Pulp Age (1933: Doc Savage) and provides the template for one of Batman’s many titles: the world’s greatest detective.

In comic books, the evolution of the adept parallels the literary tradition. The adepts of the Golden Age are primarily heroic magicians (1934: Mandrake; 1940: Doctor Fate) and villainous mad scientists (1940: Lex Luthor; 1940: Hugo Strange). In the Silver Age, newfound power amplifies the ambitions and flaws of adepts, driving them to help or enslave humanity. Magicians become criminals and scientists, heroes. A vain Easter European monarch (1962: Doctor Doom) dreaming of world domination, blames his disfigurement on a brilliant, but aloof, engineer (1962: Mr. Fantastic). A disabled inventor (1963: Niles Caulder) forms a crime-fighting team of outcasts to show the world that being different is no impediment to doing good. After suffering inoperable damage to his hands, an arrogant surgeon (1963: Dr. Strange) initially seeks a cure from a Tibetan mystic, but ends up seeking enlightenment from his new mentor. The popularity of the martial arts in the Bronze Age generated adepts of the Eastern arts (1973: Shang Chi; 1974: Richard Dragon; 1974: Iron Fist). The Modern Age introduced anti-hero sorcerers (1985: John Constantine; 2005: Black Alice) who are pragmatic and morally ambiguous.