CBR: When Words Collide - Dec 14, 2009

[CBR News]

Looking back at what is one of the best comics of the last decade, Timothy explores manga, allegory, and war in the sophisticated retelling of the classic Astro Boy story "Greatest Robot on Earth," "Pluto: Urasawa x Tezuka."


Full article here.

[RJT]

You wrote: "American comics have been shy about tackling the war in the Middle East, or at least they've been shy about doing it in any kind of meaningful way. John Ney Rieber and John Cassady gave Captain America some terrorists to punch (and lecture about) in the post 9/11 comic book world, Brian Keene and Chris Samnee's "Dead of Night: Devil-Slayer" used the Iraq war as a backdrop for a story about hell on earth, Brian Wood and Riccardo Burchielli's "DMZ" turned the military action inward, on New York City itself. And we're still waiting (or not) for Frank Miller's "Holy Terror, Batman!""

I would also add Rick Veitch's "Army At Love" and Kyle Baker's "Special Forces", two series that are more explicitly about the American wars in the Middle East than "Pluto".

[TimothyCallahan]

Good call. I was thinking of non-satirical portrayals, but I should clarify that.

[Jim Gourley]

I was troubled by your characterization of war as a contest in which megalomaniacal leaders direct ever escalating efforts at developing more expansive methods for killing, the results of which are only pain and suffering. You're correct that the preponderance of "war comics" these days ranges from the disingenuous to the outright campy, but we limit ourselves in the treatment of the subject if we believe that works like "Pluto" are great existential accomplishments simply because they exhibit the "human toll of war".

As a two-time Iraq vet, I've seen the human toll. It is certainly terrible and should be addressed if any literary medium, even comics, presumes to approach the subject of war. But it is only one aspect, and if it focusses only on that aspect (which your review indicates it doesn't) or makes the subject wholly the theme of the work (which your review indicates it does in large part), then it risks being inaccurate, even in its role as a portrayal.

This is why Miller's '300' is still such a successful portrayal of the subject of war. Iconic in its historical roots, gruesome in its imagery, and profound in its dialogue, the book missed no aspect of the subject of war. While some people might write off the battle scenes as flesh-and-blood versions of the glorified punch-fest in the Astro Boy story, they do so at the risk of underestimating just how accurately it reflects the Spartan mindset toward the carnage, let alone appreciating how closely it represents that of the modern infantry soldier in Afghanistan.

War is violence. That violence absolutely leaves a terrible swath of destruction in its wake. But we miss half the point if we put aside the violence and focus on the wake in the interest of literary impressionism. The plight of the civilian refugee is prescient, but no more so than that of the men fighting the war "out there" as they also struggle with their own inner demons. It would seem "Pluto" misses this point due to the allegorical use of robots as soldiers. The robots only become "more human" as they strive to give up fighting. Thus, whether intentionally or not, the soldier is de-humanized and his motivations trivialized. We have eliminated the warfighter from the war story, and replaced him with a disillusioned victim.

If a "war comic" takes an anti-war point of view it is doomed to failure, because it can never treat with respect a subject it intends to exhibit utter disdain for. "War is an ugly thing", wrote John Stewart Mill "but not the ugliest of things." A war comic that captures this idea and maintains it as an element of its foundation truly accomplishes something. Perhaps none are better in achieving that than Frank Marraffino's "Haunted Tank".

Ultimately, as a veteran and avid reader of comics, I find the notion of ham-fisted dismissals of the Iraq war as "wrong" nauseating, though not for reasons others might think. If people disagree with the war they are more than welcome to, but the argument that the war was wrong based on the incorrect predication of Weapons of Mass Destruction is tired, inaccurate, and weak. This is especially true if one wants to use it as the premise of an attempt at political allegory. That being the case, I see no difference between the revelations of Pluto and Astro Boy. The greatest and most politically allegorical work in manga is Kaiji Kawaguchi's "The Silent Service". In its enduring relevance to political thought, it rivals "V For Vendetta".

There's nothing wrong with a great story, and I'm sure Pluto presents that. Astro Boy is good for children, as the review indicates, and kids interested in the material shouldn't be denied some form of it. But I don't consider anything better for "more mature readers" unless it provokes thought. It's not blood but brain cells that make for an adult situation. We find 'District 9' uncomfortable not because the aliens die horribly, but because we know that their persona and our treatment of them is an allegory for a history of inhuman mistreatment conducted by humans. If all a comic does is show graphic scenes of violence and then ends with haggard survivors picking through the wreckage and grousing on how stupid war is, then it accomplishes little. Whether robots, soldiers, or space marines, they should all wear red "3rd crewman" shirts from Star Trek to demonstrate how generic they really are. When done well, a war comic has its place, but the subject demands a more scrutinizing mind than one which simply believes its sufficient to stop at saying "war is bad."

[TimothyCallahan]

Jim -- That is an extraordinarily thoughtful response.

It is a long-standing tradition that every war story is an anti-war story, so it's interesting that you bring up 300 and the most recent Haunted Tank stories as examples that run counter to that tradition.

I'm not sure I even said that "Pluto" is a great comic BECAUSE it's anti-war. I certainly don't believe that to be true. It wears its anti-war message on its sleeve, but it's good because of the way in which the story is told.

And not to get into political debate, but you must surely see why the misinformation about "weapons of mass destruction" -- the alleged basis for the Iraq war, whether it was ever the real reason or not -- would be an apt symbol for the abuses of power.

Have you actually read "Pluto," because your response seems to imply that your knowledge of its contents comes from my column. If you have read it, I'm curious to see what you think about it, rather than my characterization of it. And if you haven't read it, you should, and let me know what you think.

[Jim Gourley]

Tim,

Thanks for your response. As with several tankobon, I discovered Pluto in the third edition. So, I was able to get a general grasp of what was going on but couldn't maintain enough interest or understanding to go inspire me to go back and hunt for the previous editions. I based my comments on the characterizations I observed as well as your review. Not the best grounds for posting, but given the subject I felt compelled to give it a go anyway.

I didn't feel like you said Pluto was good because it was anti-war. I think I mistook your statement "what is war if not..." as your own opinion instead of giving voice to that of the author. Thanks for clarifying.

You strike the exact chord that I meant in your reference to "not getting into a political debate", because the debate over that item in this context is anything but. In fact, I speak to the subject on purely literary grounds. Consider this, are "weapons of mass destruction" really the argument, or are they only a symbol of something greater to the anti-war movement? If our government's motivation for invading Iraq, and our subsequent support of that motivation, were so simplistic, then our country is a nation led by idiots who are elected by idiots. That's not even taking into account the coalition of idiot nations that joined us. I don't think we're idiots. The situation was much more complex, and that's why I think a lot of comic works out there don't achieve all that they can, because they decide to oversimplify the situation and thus reduce us to the role of idiots. Again, we all hate war. Do I really need Astro Boy to tell me I should? Probably not, so he should probably say something a little more profound. I think you were touching on that as well.

Go back to "V". Alan Moore doesn't simply produce a world in which merry old England embraces facism in the wake of a single tragic catastrophe. To do so would undersell the resiliency of the human spirit and demonize pre-WWII Germans as a bunch of huns following Hitler on a lark. Instead, through his subtle references throughout the book he tells us that the world experienced a string of catastrophes heaped upon another, and how a cabal of profiteers manipulated human fear to gain control. It's probably best exemplified when V takes to the television and announces "I know why you did it..." It leaves us to contemplate just how far we would have to be pushed before we'd let nazis seize control of our country, and grimly consider just how short a distance it really is.

In comparison, lots of comics write America as a nation of war (and fear)- mongers who prey on an easily influenced, fearful, and fickle population that has forgotten how to use its rights in the interest of anything more useful than democratically appointing the next American Idol. That assessment has value, but it must be developed. It's okay to call Americans (or robots, or zombie hunters, or any other character, to remain mindful of the fact this is a literary argument) fearful and reactionary so long as you give them something to be fearful of and reactionary to.

"The Black Issue" of Amazing Spider-Man will always stand out for that reason. It's one of those rare moments where these unrealistic characters transcend the comics medium and say something profound by virtue of their unrealistic nature. Earth's mightiest heroes can't put the Trade Center back right. They can't save everyone. Captain America himself can't hold back the tears. Even as Peter Parker goes through his own living hell, he sees Cap and asks "what is it like to see this twice?" He gives the most appropriate answer possible of our generation as we look toward that of our grandparents: "I can't imagine." A super-hero with the proportionate strength of a spider lacks the imagination to comprehend the feelings of a generation. The mythic character who emodies the American spirit is, in that moment, capable of anything. What vengeance will Steve Rogers pursue, and how much of the "American Way" will he sacrifice to obtain it? As much as we admire him, we suddenly remember that he is a product of FDR's wartime experiments. So was the atom bomb. The association, even in that moment of grief, is terrifying. Can anything be more poignant? This is the epitome of allegory and characterization. If only all comics, not just war comics, could be as thoughtful.

I don't think every comic should be on the order of Tolstoy or even "V". "The Black Issue" certainly isn't. Then again, it's a perfect example of why it doesn't have to be. The stories can be simple and fun, but the ideas should be refreshing and bold. Again, that's something that applies to all comics, but I believe especially to those dealing with war.