I read somewhere that the red and yellow Superman emblem is one of the most internationally recognizable symbols of American pop culture. The “S” insignia Superman wears on his chest, juxtaposed against the bright blue of the rest of his costume, is the nearly universal sign for, dare I say it, truth, justice, and…I hate to say it, but it’s true...the American way.
Superman was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, two young Jewish men, who decided the world needed a light in the darkness that World War Two had cast upon the world. A light that would never go out. A light that would shine from the deepest pit, through the blackest night. A light that peaceful, freedom-loving people could look to when their very way of life was threatened by the murderous, imperialistic Nazi and fascist regimes in Europe and Asia.
Superman made his debut in 1938. It is now sixty-eight years later, and his fan club has sprouted out of Metropolis, to include the entire world. His popularity has waxed and waned, but his image has never disappeared. Batman and Spiderman have come to the forefront in recent years, and have had new life infused into their stories. Filmmaker Bryan Singer hoped to do this for Superman, with Superman Returns, which was released this summer. The thing is, Superman was never really gone. In the movie, he had been away from Metropolis for five years, but in “real life,” for his fans, he has always, and will always, be around. Real or fictional, I can’t—and wouldn’t want to—imagine a world without him.
Let’s face it: when worn by an actor in prime physical shape, the costume leaves little to the imagination. Superman is, without question, a fine male specimen. The source of the attraction, however, is much deeper than his appearance. What is it about the Man of Steel that so many people all over the world cling to?
I can’t claim to speak for the whole world, but, speaking for myself, the very idea of Superman is as comforting as a rainbow after a violent thunderstorm. He’s a sign that you’re safe; that nothing will hurt you. He’s a reminder that, like Patrick Swayze’s character says in the movie Dirty Dancing, “there are people in the world who are willing to stand up for other people, no matter what it costs them.” Superman will never let you down. He’ll never let you fall. (Or, if you’re Lois Lane, he’ll let you fall, but he’ll always catch you before you hit the ground!)
I’ve always loved Superman. Some of my friends have only recently learned this about me, in the wake of Superman Returns. Seeing it reminded me of just how much I love Superman. (It has also led to many a discussion about the finer points of Batman, the X-Men, the Avengers, and the Fantastic Four, the best result of which was killing time at work.)
My love for Superman has never died, but from time to time, it has fallen off the radar. Now, in the wake of the movie, I am having what my sister would call a “Supermanaissance.” (As in, the Renaissance. Didn’t you know you could just add that ending to any word, and transform it to mean a reawakening? A rekindling of something that hadn’t completely disappeared, but needed to be infused with new life? This comes, of course, from my sister’s recent conversion to a tomato lover. She used to hate fresh tomatoes, and now, she loves them! She coined the word “tomatossance,” and I’ve stolen it to describe the rebirth of my feelings about Superman.)
It is my good fortune (and the toy manufacturers’ and marketing people’s even better fortune) that a host of new Superman-themed merchandise has flooded stores. Now, a whole new generation can celebrate the Caped Wonder by spending mom and dad’s hard-earned money on everything from magnets to action figures, to Superman pajamas, which, as a 28-year-old, I’m not ashamed to admit I own. (The pants came courtesy of my friend, Susie; the T-shirt was all me!)
I haven’t given in completely to the mass marketing, however. I may love the Man of Steel, but I’m still a discerning consumer. I buy things that make me happy when I look at them. The problem is, there are very few Superman-themed items that don’t make me happy when I look at them. Maybe it’s the bright, cheery primary colors; maybe it’s the fact that Superman is so damn handsome, in just about every incarnation there’s been. (At least, during my lifetime. I mean, we’re talking about Christopher Reeve, Dean Cain, Tom Welling, and Brandon Routh. Find me one man among those, who didn’t do justice to that costume!)
Most likely, though, it is that just seeing Superman’s face, or even the famed “S” symbol, that was Kal-El’s family crest back on Krypton, is a reminder of everything Superman means to me. (And, of course, now that, for the first time in my life, I have a steady income, and am no longer spending dear ol’ mom and dad’s money, if I want to treat myself to a few things that will make me smile at the end of the day, I don’t feel guilty for indulging. [Case in point: the welcome mat that sits just outside my door. It has a classic image of Superman on it: serious expression on his face, cape flowing regally behind him, and it says, “All Friends and Heroes Welcome.” A little childish? Maybe. But it makes me smile every time I walk through the door.])
But I digress...
(And, if you read my previous post, about why I haven’t written anything in a while, you’ll recognize that I do this a lot. In fact, I think this is going to be “my thing.” Y’know, like Johnny Carson’s golf swing, or Dennis Miller’s trademark rant ending, “But that’s just me; I could be wrong.” I’ll have a few paragraphs that are only slightly related to the topic at hand, and then I’ll saw those three little words. Hmm…what an interesting challenge for myself, to see if I can include an entertaining, if not intelligent digression in every post. Then again, that’s not a challenge at all. This entire thing, since the mention of the “tomatossance,” has been a digression! Okay, so it won’t be challenging. At least it’ll be fun. It’ll be like a Where’s Waldo, in every post! Where’s the, “But I digress,” hiding this time?)
~~And now, we return to our regularly scheduled essay~~
In my praise of Superman, I don’t mean to disparage or ignore other superheroes. The fact is, Superman is the only one I’ve ever felt strongly about, and he’s the only one I feel qualified to discuss. Based on other movies that have come out in the past few years, I’ve learned that Batman and Spiderman both have interesting origins, and abilities that undeniably put them in the same league as Superman. Other superheroes have neat nicknames, like the Emerald Archer (Green Arrow), and the Scarlet Speedster (the Flash). They all have wonderfully creative alter-egos: Ace test-pilot Hal Jordan became Green Lantern; police scientist Barry Allen became the Flash; gangster Eel O’Brien became Plastic Man. Still, for me, none has ever measured up to Clark Kent, Superman, and the Man of Steel. I’m sure the others have internal qualities that are similar to what I see in Superman, but, for reasons which I’m about to explain, Superman is the only one I’ve ever gravitated toward.
I’ve heard people say Superman is a flawed superhero, because he can never lose.
Some people say the interesting thing about watching superhero movies, or reading the comic books, is seeing how the heroes overcome their weaknesses, and still go on to kick serious adversary butt. I’ve thought about this a lot since Superman Returns came out this summer, and I’ve come to agree. With this mindset, it’s easy to see why some people think Superman is boring. He has no weaknesses. He can never lose. He’s faster and stronger than anything or anyone. He flew around the Earth fast enough to reverse its orbit, for crying out loud. (The original Superman movie, 1978.) He has x-ray vision, cold breath that can freeze anything, and laser beams that shoot out of his eyes! No enemy could possibly stand a chance. Where’s the fun in that?
However, the more you learn about Superman, the more you begin to understand that he does have weaknesses. The catch is, his weaknesses aren’t physical. They’re emotional. Every time he hears a cry for help, or a siren in the distance, he has to fight himself. He has to stifle the part of him that wants to be a normal man. He has to bury his carnal and temporal wishes and force himself to do what’s right.
Superman’s weakness is his morality. It’s his integrity. (That is, if you consider those two things to be weaknesses.) I’ve heard integrity defined in many ways, but my two favorites are: doing what’s right, even when no one’s looking; and, doing what’s right, even when it hurts.
Superman can’t ignore someone in need. It goes against everything he believes in, and everything he stands for. He does what’s right, even when it hurts, and, if you can see even the slightest bit of humanity in Superman, it’s obvious that it does hurt. In the television series, Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, poor Clark Kent had the world convinced he was a complete scatterbrain. Thanks to his super-hearing, he could always hear when he was needed. He was constantly leaving the office in the middle of meetings to go rescue someone, and he walked out on more than one heart-to-heart talk with Lois Lane, claiming he forgot to return a video, or had to pick up his dry cleaning.
Clark Kent, as portrayed by the late (and truly “super”) Christopher Reeve, was a total nerd. He was nervous, fidgety, and a klutz. The revelation of his true identity had so many dangerous possible outcomes that he had to hide his true self from the world. He had to maintain a secret identity that was such a polar opposite of his true self, that no one would ever suspect they were one and the same. No one can claim Superman has it too easy, or that he has no weaknesses. In a world that loves Superman—and, despite what he thinks, embraces him as one of its own—the poor man is completely, tragically, alone. If that’s not painful, I don’t know what is.
In an essay in the June 2006 issue of Wired, Neil Gaiman and Adam Rogers talk about “the internal war between Superman’s moral obligation to do good and his longing to be an average Joe. Other heroes are really only pretending: Peter Parker plays Spider-Man; Bruce Wayne plays Batman. For Superman, it’s mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent that’s the disguise – the thing he aspires to, the thing he can never be. He really is that hero, and he’ll never be one of us.”
Superman’s greatest desire is to fit in. To be accepted. He feels so different, so out of place. He feels he’ll never truly fit in, because he’s not human. What he doesn’t realize is, the thing that he thinks sets him apart is the very thing that makes him most like us: a sense of not belonging. A sense of being trapped on the outside, looking in. And this is why I love him. This is why I sense a kindred spirit in a fictional character. Does that make me pathetic? Maybe. But, more likely, it makes me undeniably human, the same way it does for Superman, himself.
Who hasn’t ever felt that way? Hell, I know people who feel that way all the time. This is why we join internet forums, or support groups, or book clubs. We want to feel like we belong. We flock to like-minded people, because they understand us. They help us feel less alone. They make it safe for us to brave the world. Safe for us to leave the sanctity and comfort of our own, personal fortresses of solitude.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with Superman canon, the Fortress of Solitude is Superman’s home. (I’ll spare you the details of how he built it.) It is a crystal ice palace, somewhere in the Arctic, somewhere inaccessible to humans. It’s his escape; his refuge. It’s the only place he can go to truly get away from the pressure of maintaining two separate lives. We all have a Fortress of Solitude, even if it’s not a place you can point to on a map. For some, maybe it is a physical location, like a coffee shop you like to go to with a good book, settle into a comfy chair, and forget about your problems and your shortcomings for an afternoon. Or, maybe it’s an activity, like running. Maybe, when you need an “escape” from everything, you put on your sneakers and hit the pavement. Maybe, for that bit of time, all that exists in the world is you, and the sound of your footfalls, and no one’s there to tell you you’re not good enough, or fast enough. Maybe, if you’re like me, your Fortress is those few minutes you lie in bed, just before you fall asleep. It’s the time of day when you can imagine anything: be anyone, anywhere, doing anything. No matter how crazy they would seem to anyone you described them to, your daydreams and fantasies are your escape from the temporal world, and no one can take them away from you.
I’m slowly learning to open my Fortress a little bit, and let the outside world trickle in. I’m starting to write again, and I’m starting to tell people I’m writing again. This is no easy feat, as my writing has always been an extremely personal endeavor. (So much so, that I hate having people read my works in progress, or see my outlines, because I’m so afraid of being laughed at, or being thought silly—or, worse—untalented.) But, this blog, The Fortress of Solitude, is a step in the right direction. These are still my feelings, and my personal thoughts on whatever I choose to write about, but, the more I let them out, the more I see how closely in tune they are with other people’s feelings.
I had a poetry professor who always said that a good poem takes the very specific, the very personal, and makes it universal. I’m finding out more and more that this is the case with just about all writing. The more specifically you describe something, the more everyone else will see themselves in it.
And now, we get to the heart of matter: how I feel when I think about Superman. The personal, the specific. The things that are so unique to me that, if that professor was right, they will translate flawlessly to you.
When I think about Superman, and all the connotations he brings with him, I feel the same way I do when I think about writing: my heart speeds up, I breathe more deeply. I feel like things are falling into place in the universe.
Superman does the right thing. Every time. He’s fast, he’s strong. He represents that good will win over evil. That no matter how long the fight, no matter how bloody the struggle, Good. Will. Win. Superman won’t sleep until it does.
I’ve read in many places that Superman is a symbol of hope. That the bad guys will be punished, and that peaceful, freedom-loving people can go to sleep feeling safe and secure, because they know Superman is somewhere out there, up there, flying around to make sure things stay that way.
So, tonight, sleep tight. Nothing’s going to hurt you.
Not on his watch.
Next up: An essay on real-life superheroes.
PS: For the full story from Wired, see: http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/14.06/myth.html. Special thanks to Mark for sending me the link, and for always encouraging my Superman obsession. (And for buying me all four movies on video! And that awesome book! And the notecards! I never forget stuff related to Superman…Too bad everything’s going to DVD now…but it is coming up on the holiday season. Maybe this is one time I can ask dear ol’ Mom and Dad to spend some money on me…I think they’re releasing some kind of collector’s box set this month, LOL!!)
PPS: Love the Man of Steel as much I do? Check out the amazing site I found this week:
http://www.supermanhomepage.com/news.php
*The images here are from The Superman Homepage, and are being used with permission from the site owner.
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