In honor of Comicpalooza, I thought I'd share some of my opinions on comics, specifically the women who grace their pages. Keep reading if you want to know what your friendly neighborhood library will be up to at Comicpalooza).
Women in comics
With the recent and enduring boom in the superhero movie industry (thanks in no small part to Marvel getting that sweet, sweet Mickey Mouse money), the average person now has passing knowledge of most famous superheroes.
We all know about Spider-Man's radioactive spider bite and Superman’s country boy childhood. Wonder Woman is from a magical island, and Wanda loves Vision. Bruce Banner (the Hulk) is always angry, and Batman is always brooding.
Seeing these comic book characters come alive on screen has been incredible, and I love how it’s introduced a whole new generation of fans to these stories. People are being inspired to do good and be good, the ever-lasting goal of all heroes. But as always, the good is accompanied by bad.
The disparity between men and women in comics isn’t exactly subtle or new. Comics have been around for generations, superhero comics especially, and they are not immune to the biases and beliefs their creators held regarding women. Even if we’re ignoring superhero costumes (which we aren’t; we’ll get to those soon enough), women's stories are presented differently.
Women in comics are more often used as plot devices than compelling characters, especially in the early years. People with a passing understanding of Superman lore might know Jimmy Olsen as Clark Kent’s friend and coworker. They definitely know Lois Lane as Superman’s girlfriend—a perpetual damsel in distress—despite her being a dynamite journalist herself. Even when comics accurately portray her as such, her enduring image is being held in Superman's arms as he rescues her from danger.
Even for dynamite female characters, dating a hero is dangerous work. A woman is at risk of kidnapping if she's seen being saved one too many times. When they aren't being kidnapped, they’re just as likely to fade into the background of their hero-partner's story or die senselessly. This is such a prominent issue that a word was created to describe it: fridging.
Fridging
The term “fridging” originated in 1999 from comics writer Gail Simone criticizing an issue of Green Lantern in which the hero returns home to find his girlfriend’s body in his fridge. He seems heartbroken over her loss for a few panels, and then he gets revenge, develops as a character, grows as a hero, and never seems to mention the love of his life again. What was the point of her dying when she could have just as easily ended the relationship to push him down the same developmental journey? Either way, she would have been gone, and Green Lantern would have had to figure out who he is without her. At least she gets to live if they're broken up.
A more modern example would be from Deadpool 2.
Deadpool’s girlfriend, Vanessa, is killed in front of him to kick off the plot. Despite making fun of the scene in the opening credits immediately following her death, it didn’t change the fact it happened. Sure, Deadpool (the following is spoilers, just so you know) time travels by the end of the movie to bring her back, but was Vanessa’s death really the only way to set everything in motion?
And, when the entire movie was framed as Deadpool trying to get his girlfriend and love-of-his-life back, did her death mean anything when the third movie announces them broken up within the first ten minutes?
Don’t get me wrong, dying as a catalyst for a hero's character development happens with male characters, too. One can easily argue that Uncle Ben’s death is what pushes Peter Parker to be Spider-Man. While there are many versions of the scene depending on which comic series or movie is presenting it, the core remains the same. After a fight, Uncle Ben is shot in a mugging, and he dies after delivering the iconic “With great power must also come great responsibility” line.
So, what’s the difference?
The difference is the legacy of these characters whose deaths are used to drive the plot.
What's in a legacy?
Anyone who’s engaged with a piece of Spider-Man media (except, perhaps, the most recent Marvel movies, which is a whole other can of worms we're not opening in this blog) knows about Uncle Ben. He hovers over every Spider-Man narrative like a guardian angel. His character might be dead, but his influence on the story is everlasting. There would be no Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man without him, because Peter spends his life trying to make his father figure proud.
To continue using the second Deadpool movie, the same isn’t true for Vanessa. Deadpool is still, fundamentally, Deadpool without her. We haven’t seen her influence his character much, and he doesn’t act differently after her passing. At least, not noticeably so. He still makes inappropriate jokes, breaks the fourth wall, and engages in gratuitous violence. To put it bluntly, he could have claimed to love a pigeon and gone on the exact same character journey to bring it back.
You see what I’m getting at, right? You see how it's frustrating, right? We're given impressive female characters, characters that have potential, only for them to be shunted to the side. And that's just the ones without superpowers.
Remember earlier, when I said I’d get to the costumes? Well, we’ve gotten to them.
The costumes (oh, the costumes)
I could make the rest of this blog about the concept of bikini battle armor (female characters across media having significantly less armor than their male counterparts, often in the form of bikini-like breastplates and shorts). The potential for critical analysis is enormous, especially how they're defended by fans. Defenses of the armor include ways a warrior can protect the squishy, vulnerable bits of themselves not covered by a bikini (so, you know, all of them).
But instead of generalizing, I’d rather give you a more specific example, this time from DC.
This lore might be a little more niche, but Superman’s powers come from the sun. The brighter and sunnier, the stronger he’s feeling.
Wonder Woman, meanwhile, is a demigod; her powers come from within and the training she received as a child. She is well-versed in warrior ways, tactics, and combat methods.
Knowing this, wouldn’t it be reasonable to say that Superman should have a suit that allows him to soak in the sun and Wonder Woman should wear battle-strategic armor? Costumes of these kinds would capitalize on each hero’s strength and source of power.
So, why is it that Superman is all covered up, his spandex literally covering him from neck to toe, while Wonder Woman has a short skirt and frankly uncomfortable-looking chest armor that doesn't actually protect her heart from being stabbed? Also, why is she fighting in heels? Why isn't Superman sweating uncomfortably in his suit during the summer? Why do these heroes wear suits that fundamentally work against them and their powers?
You could explain Superman's suit as wanting protection from kryptonite, but that doesn't make sense, either. Kryptonite doesn't need to touch Superman to weaken him; comics, TV shows, movies, and games have consistently shown that simply being in the presence of kryptonite is enough. So, what's the point?
From a Watsonian perspective (an in-universe argument for creative decisions, see also: Doylist analysis), you could argue that Wonder Woman's armor is a Themyscira (the island inhabited solely by women warriors where she was raised) quirk. They wear skirts (or one-piece unitards) because they're easy to move in, and skirts are common enough in ancient Spartan/Roman armor. This is fair, but it's hard to take solace in this Watsonian explanation when the male gaze is providing upskirt shots during Wonder Woman's fight scenes in movies.
Ironically, Marvel Studios might be better about costumes than its DC counterpart. Any costume that isn’t a biological change (Bruce Banner becoming the Hulk) or straight-up armor (Iron Man’s suit and Thor’s chest plate) is skin-tight. One could also argue that there haven't been enough female characters on-screen for a proper analysis, but I digress.
Black Widow’s jumpsuit, Spider-Man's spandex, even Captain America’s costume during army shows cover about the same amount of skin in about the same way. It could be said that Marvel's male heroes show more skin between Hawkeye's costume being sleeveless and Bruce Banner being shirtless when he transforms back to himself. While the skin-tight suits do look a little different on Black Widow than Captain America or Hawkeye, I’ll take what I can get.
The comics industry has certainly progressed, and is still progressing, since the days of Green Lantern’s girlfriend getting fridged. The diversity of characters, powers, and stories is like never before. Between the comics, movies, and TV shows, more people than ever are getting to see people who look like them being heroes.
The work just isn’t quite finished.
HCPL @ Comicpalooza
Comicpalooza, a yearly convention for fans of all things comics, anime, and pop culture, is coming up this month. Just like last year, HCPL will have a booth at the convention where you can relax, recharge, and even read a few books in a comfy little area! I visited the area twice at last year's convention, and it was a blessing after walking around the main hall for nearly three hours.
This year, in addition to running another booth, we'll also be hosting a live session of our podcast, Gabbing with the Librarians! This session's topic will be "When books don't get the movie treatment." Our librarians will explore popular books that were never made into movies despite their success.
I can't wait to hear everyone's takes on the topic, and I certainly have opinions of my own, but I'll hold onto them until the podcast is made available to everyone.
New to comics and not sure where to start?
That's okay! The best place to start is, well, anywhere. Just find a character that looks interesting and start reading their comic runs. Here's a few of my favorite comics/characters to get you started:
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