Most anyone who's read comics in the last twenty years has heard the name John Byrne. He's been a sought-after talent ever since his classic run on the Uncanny X-men with Chris Claremont and Terry Austin, and has worked on such classic characters as Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, The Incredible Hulk, and the Fantastic Four. When I was first reading comics, Byrne was a favorite of mine, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say he was (and possibly still is) my favorite artist. When I went to college, I took a break from comics, and didn't read them again until about 1997. I was starting to get involved in roleplaying games again and was writing short stories and a few comics titles caught my eye, so I dove back in. The comics world was vastly different from the one I'd known in the late eighties, reading the X-men, New Mutants, Power Pack, and Wonder Woman. The characters were generally darker, the art more stylized… the storylines bleaker. The comics industry, I learned, was recovering from an oversaturation period during which readers were bombarded with foil, hologram, and alternate covers, confusing mass tie-ins, and popular book "cloning". The inevitable sales slump that followed the glut got a lot of books canceled or relaunched, and low-selling became an immediate death sentence, regardless of fan sentiment. When I heard that Byrne had gotten ahold of Wonder Woman while I was away, I anxiously bought the trade paperback Second Genesis, reprinting his first five issues (101-105) on the title. My initial reservations about the art aside (Byrne has never been my favorite inker) I found myself really disliking the stories. The disappointment at Byrne's Wonder Woman stuck in my mind for months, until I came across a large stack of his issues of the title on the cheap, and figured I'd give him another chance. After reading them, I was convinced that something was up, and that the time was right for a detailed study. Though I didn't have all of his Wonder Woman issues, I went through the ones I had and started making a simple list of violent acts against men and women.
Superhero comics have always been violent to some degree, and that is to be expected, so I paid more attention to how the characters dealt with violence against them, and whether they were portrayed as struggling or helpless, defiant or frightened. When I divided the results by gender, I was surprised at the severity of the bias. I undertook the same methods on the other Byrne books I had: Alpha Flight, Superman, the Fantastic Four and others, and found the same recurring themes: routine kidnapping, abuse, torture, and killing of women in order to further the story and give the male characters something to think about. Now before I go on, I'd like to make some things clear. I don't support censorship, I don't believe in enforcing "political correctness" on unwilling parties, and I don't think that Byrne is alone in this type of behavior, or even the worst perpetrator. I have no idea what John Byrne is like as a person, and I know nothing about his personal life (whether he's married, has children, etc.) John Byrne is singled out for a few reasons. First, he has a lot of freedom due to his comics "celebrity" status, so I assume he can do the stories he really wants to do. That means there's little or no editor pressure, and we can be relatively sure we're getting his work as he wants to do it. Secondly, John Byrne writes, draws and letters a lot of his own work, so there's no miscommunication between contributors to muddy the intended messages. Thirdly, he's a creator I once admired and respected, and I wanted to know for certain if this was all in my head or not.
Byrne also created an odd tone for a comic book about an Amazon. For instance, he set up a scenario in which Darkseid, the evil ruler of the planet Apokolips, came to Themyscira (aka Paradise Island) and tore it apart, trying to find clues as to the whereabouts of the Greek Gods. In the battle that ensued, nearly half the Amazons were killed. The moment that left me baffled was when Diana, tired to the core from fierce battle, collapsed into the arms of Mike, a man she had met just days, or even hours, ago, softly crying his name. In Byrne's words, the Amazons are Diana's "sisters, her aunts, cousins, her many mothers." And yet she clings to the only man in sight, rather than one of her remaining family. I read the rest of the book, trying to get into Byrne's rendition of the character, but it was useless.
Also, I had never seen Wonder Woman faint before, and into the arms of a man, no less. It happens twice in his first five issues. Later in the series, when Hippolyta assumes the mantle of Wonder Woman (after Diana is killed and resurrected as a goddess), she takes down Hawkman, but the Flash says of it in a caption: "It was a lucky shot, I knew." I suppose the point is supposed to be that Hawkman would ordinarily beat Wonder Woman in a fight.
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As overused and condescending as that storyline is, it at least allows for growth. This situation degraded Barda's character as a plot device, which I find distasteful. Later on, when Hawkman and Hawkgirl appear (actually, the cover bills it as "Superman & Hawkman"), guess which one gets beat up on? While Hawkman and Superman handle an armada of alien ships, Hawkgirl gets beat up on by a supporting cast villain.
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The basic premise of this book is that teenage mothers were kidnapped and experimented on to create a race of superhumans: the Next Men. Byrne's fascination with abusing and killing pregnant women (in especially gruesome ways) comes back again and again in the books he works on. I suppose it could be called a "motif."
Tigra starts to become more cat than human and eventually is shrunk down to the size of a gerbil for safekeeping; the Scarlet Witch's children are revealed as figments of her imagination right after she gets captured and turned into a mega-bitch; and the Wasp does a lot of smiling and saying "Nice job!" to Hank Pym. Flighty, though not a sexpot. . . and where is the tough lady cop? The West Coast Avengers basically becomes a team of men: Hank Pym, Iron Man, Wonder Man, the Human Torch, and USAgent. When the WCA meets up with the Mole Man, Wonder Man takes four zaps with his cane and keeps on going. When Byrne writes the She-Hulk, with her amazing degree of invulnerability, she can handle only one.
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Once Byrne gets back to the title after a 23 issue hiatus, She-Hulk gets captured again, this time by the Mole Man, who can knock Jen out with a single zap from his cane.
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I don't have any of the issues in the story arc any more, but he scripted a tale in which the Invisible Girl is transformed into the evil "Malice" by the "Psycho-Man" through a process which she describes as a sort of "mental rape." As a result, she has to wear a skimpy leather outfit with spikes on it and try to trash the FF. When she finally gets her revenge on the Psycho-Man, she decides to change her name to the Invisible Woman, to reflect how her abuse has helped her grow as a person. Never mind that she's already married, had a child, had a miscarriage… I guess she's not really a woman until she's put through the wringer. The other few issues I have of the Fantastic Four feature more strong female characters being taken captive. Why is it that even though the She-Hulk is nearly as strong as her cousin, she's always getting knocked out and beaten when Byrne writes her?
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Not a lot of blatant woman-bashing in Alpha Flight, though there are a couple of "babe in peril" covers. Marrina gets tortured by the Master across two issues (that's gotta smart!) and is nearly torn apart by a hydraulic piston. Looking over my stash of Byrne issues, I was reminded that his work makes for a good comic book read. He draws his characters well, and includes characters with more of a variety of body types and ages than a lot of artists do. I went back and re-read the West Coast Avengers issues before Byrne took over, and by comparison, they seemed really dull and lifeless. As dynamic as his art can be, and as ambitious as his storylines are, he just seems to have an axe to grind with the female of the species. When you know it's there, it really sticks out. In the works of George Perez and Chris Claremont and Kurt Busiek, we have complex, capable women. John Byrne seems unable to make women truly human; they're get to be either bitchy, flighty, or evil. Not to say that his male characters fare much better. They're certainly locked into roles to pick up the slack the women characters provide, but at least they're cast as capable and effective. I made sure not to bias myself too much and search for every little thing, so I let him "get away with" a lot. After all, comics has never been the most evenhanded medium where women are concerned. Usually, when a non-super-powered person is in peril, it's a pretty girl, but that's par for the course. Female heroes being pushed into the background is also not new. In the end, it was this tone combined with his tendency toward gruesome violence against women characters that bothered me more than other writers' books. If you look at comics "in reverse," a lot of these issues become clear. How many issues of Superman revolve around him being captured and rescued? How many men are captured and tortured to lure female heroes? How many men are turned against their friends and made to wear skimpy leather outfits? Do the male characters ever faint? How often are they killed or hurt to add depth to their female counterparts? It's not too hard to see, once you know it's there. I came across an excellent site that examines some of these same issues in comics, and it's quite thought-provoking. Gail Simone's Women in Refigerators is here. |
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